PRISON-LIFE 


IN    THE 


TOBACCO  WAREHOUSE 


RICHMOND. 


BY  A  BALL'S   BLUFF  PRISONER, 
LIEUT.  WM.  C.  HAEEIS, 

OF  COL.  BAKER'S  CALIFORNIA  REGIMENT. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

GEORGE     W.    CHILD  S, 

628  &  630  CHESTNUT  STREET. 

1862. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1862,  by 
GEORGE  W.  CHILDS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 


STEREOTYPED  BY  L.  JOHNSON  It  CO. 
PHILADELPHIA. 


TO 


L 


L7 
'  ft* 


EICHIOND 


THESE  SKETCHES  ARE  AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED 
BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1862,  by 
GEORGE  W.  CHILDS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Easteri 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 


STEREOTYPED  BY  L.  JOHITSON  it  CO. 
PHILADELPHIA. 


TO 


L 

6, /a, 
L7 


KICHIOND 


THESE  SKETCHES  ARE  AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED 
BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


PREFACE. 


THESE  sketches  were  written  to  lessen  the 
tedium  of  my  lengthy  imprisonment ;  and  if  they 
serve  to  recall  to  my  prison-companions  the  scenes 
enacted  in  the  old  Warehouse,  and  enlist  the  in- 
terest and  sympathies  of  the  reader,  they  will 
have  accomplished  all  that  is  desired  by  the  pub- 
lication of  them. 

With  the  exception  of  "Homeward  Bound," 
they  were  all  written  within  prison-walls,  and 
brought  to  the  North  sewn  securely  in  the  lining 
of  an  overcoat. 

I  confidently  trust  to  my  brother-officers  for 
their  testimony  as  to  the  fidelity  of  description 
of  our  "  domestic  economy,"  and  the  accuracy  of 
detail  in  the  varied  incidents  of  our  prison-life  in 
the  Tobacco  Warehouse. 

W.  C.  H. 

PHILADELPHIA,  March  25,  1862. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

FROM  BALL'S  BLUFF  TO  RICHMOND 13 


CHAPTER  II. 
OUR  PRISON 22 

CHAPTER  III. 
A  DAY  IN  THE  OFFICERS'  PRISON 48 

CHAPTER   IV. 
A  DAY  IN  THE  PRIVATES' PRISON 57 

CHAPTER  V. 
PURSUITS  AND  PASTIMES 61 

CHAPTER  VI. 
PRISON-INCIDENTS 81 

CHAPTER  VII. 
SUNDAY  IN  PRISON Ill 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

OUR  JAILERS 120 

11 


12  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

MM 

OUR  VISITORS 144 

CHAPTER  X. 
PRISON-COMPANIONS 152 

CHAPTER  XL 
HOMEWARD  BOUND 163 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  RICHMOND  PRISON  ASSOCIATION 169 


PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND. 


CHAPTER  I. 
FROM  BALL'S  BLUFF  TO  RICHMOND. 

ON  the  21st  of  October,  1861,  the  battle  of  Ball's 
Bluff  was  fought.  Sixteen  hundred  and  ten  Federal 
and  five  thousand  Rebel  troops  were  engaged.  The 
former  were  defeated, — two  hundred  and  fifty-two  killed, 
wounded,  and  drowned,  and  six  hundred  and  seventy- 
eight  taken  prisoners.  The  defeat  and  heavy  loss  on 
the  Federal  side  were  owing  to  inefficient  transporta- 
tion, retarding  the  arrival  of  reinforcements,  and  pre- 
venting retreat  from  a  vastly  superior  force  of  the 
enemy,  the  engagement  occurring  on  the  Virginia 
bank  of  the  Potomac  River,  within  two  hundred  feet 
of  the  water's  edge. 

The  history  of  the  war  will  record  no  military 
blunder  so  fatal,  nor  futurity  witness  more  heroic  valor 
than  was  displayed  by  the  Federal  troops  at  the  battle 
of  Ball's  Bluff. 

The  following  Federal  officers  were  taken  prisoners 
by  the  Rebels  : — 

M.  Cogswell,  Colonel  42d  N.  Y.  Regt,  and  Captain  8th  U.  S.  I. 

W.  Raymond  Lee,        "       20th  Regt.  Mass.  Volunteers. 
P.  J.  Revere,          Major    20th     "         "  " 

13 


14 


PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 


Chas.  L.  Peirson, 
E.  H.  R.  Revere, 
Geo.  B.  Perry, 
John  Markoe, 
Francis  J.  Keffer, 
William  C.  Harris, 
Chas.  M.  Hooper, 
George  W.  Kenny, 
Frank  A.  Parker, 
William  H.  Kerns, 
John  M.  Studley, 
Henry  Bowman, 
Clark  S.  Simonds, 
George  W.  Rockwood, 
John  E.  Greene, 
J.  Harris  Hooper, 
Bernard  B.  Vassall, 
Timothy  O'Meara, 
Samuel  Gibeson, 
Charles  McPherson, 
Henry  Van  Voast, 


Adjutant  20th  Regt.  Mass.  Volunteers. 

Asst.  Surgeon  20th      "         "  " 


1st  Lieut. 
Captain 
(i 

1st  Lieut. 

2d 

2d 

2d 

2d 

Capta  n 


20th     " 

Col.  Baker's  California  Regt. 


15th  Regt.  Mass.  Volunteers. 


1st  Lieut. 

2d       "  " 

2d      "  " 

Captain     42d  Regt.  N.  Y.  Vol.  (Tammany.) 

1st  Lieut.         "  "        "  " 

1st     "  "  "        "  " 


The  majority  of  the  officers  were  taken  at  dusk,  and 
immediately  marched  under  guard  to  Leesburg,  a  dis- 
tance4 of  three  miles  from  the  field  of  battle.  Arriving 
there,  the  usual  rejoicings  of  an  elated  and  frantic  town 
were  performed  around  us,  the  town-people  appearing 
perfectly  maddened  in  their  yells  of  ecstasy  and  deri- 
sion, crowding  and  shouldering  each  other  in  herds  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  us.  "  We've  got  'em  this  time!" 
"  Oh,  you  infernal  Yankees !"  "  Make  way,  Jim :  I  want 
to  see  a  '  Yank' !"  were  cries  that  greeted  us  on  every 
side ;  and  it  was  not  until  we  were  marched  into  the 
presence  of  General  Evans,  the  Eebel  commandant  of 
Leesburg,  that  the  wild  uproar  of  the  furious  multi- 
tude became  comparatively  silenced.  Federal  officers 
and  privates  were  here  separated, — -the  officers  ushered 


FROM  BALL'S  BLUFF  TO  RICHMOND.  15 

into  a  room  occupied  by  General  Evans  and  his  aids, 
and  the  privates  confined  in  the  court-house. 

We  were  here  introduced  separately  to  General 
Evans,  a  man  of  tall,  brawny  frame  and  unusual 
length  of  limb,  (he  is  known  throughout  his  command 
by  the  euphonious  sobriquet  of  "  Shanks.")  His  man- 
ners are  courteous  and  dignified,  being  to  a  certain 
extent  free  from  that  peculiar  mixture  of  supercilious 
pride  and  conceit  which  characterizes  many  of  the 
officers  in  the  Confederate  army.  He  tendered  us  the 
following  parole,  stating  that,  although  it  gave  the 
liberty  of  the  town,  it  required  us  to  report  in  person 
to  General  Beauregard  at  Centreville  in  a  few  days : — 

"We,  the  undersigned,  officers  in  the  army  of  the 
United  States,  do  hereby  pledge  our  oaths  and  honor 
not  .to  bear  arms  against  the  Southern  Confederacy 
during  the  war,  unless  sooner  exchanged." 

We  all  declined  a  parole  that  conceded  no  privi- 
leges except  one, — that  of  paying  our  own  hotel-bills. 
We  were  then  informed  that  in  a  few  hours  ambu- 
lances would  be  provided  to  convey  us  to  Manassas. 

A  large  wood  fire  burned  briskly  in  the  room,  at 
which  many  of  us  dried  our  clothing,  which  had  been 
thoroughly  wet  in  attempts  to  swim  the  river.  A 
supper  consisting  of  coffee,  bread,  beefsteak,  and  pre- 
serves was  provided,  to  which  full  justice  was  done, 
many  of  us  having  eaten  nothing  since  early  morning. 

After  midnight  we  were  marched  two  miles  from 
Leesburg,  where  we  joined  our  men,  drawn  up  under 
guard  in  a  large  open  field.  A  wagon  was  here  fur- 
nished the  officers,  and,  by  close  packing,  two-thirds 
of  our  number  were  accommodated.  The  march  was 
now  continued,  the  prisoners  having  been  formed  four 


16  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

abreast,  and  guarded  on  the  front,  rear,  and  sides  of 
the  line.  The  roads,  from  recent  rains,  had  become 
ankle-deep  with  mud,  rendering  the  march  slow  and 
doubly  tiresome. 

As  the  morning  broke,  the  scene  was  a  sad  one  to 
look  upon.  From  our  position  in  the  front,  we  were 
enabled  to  overlook  the  entire  line  of  prisoners,  who, 
jaded  and  worn  out,  were  making  the  strongest  efforts 
to  keep  their  position  in  line.  Occasionally  a  poor 
fellow  would  stagger  up  to  the  commanding  officer, 
piteously  exclaiming,  "  I  can  go  no  farther !"  Some 
were  without  shoes  or  stockings,  having  lost  them  in 
attempting  to  swim  the  Potomac.  Others  were  with- 
out overcoats, — now  doubly  needed,  as  the  rain  com- 
menced to  fall.  All  were  smeared  with  mud ;  and  as 
they  marched  over  the  slippery  road,  requiring  con- 
stant efforts  to  secure  a  foothold,  the  scene  was  dreary 
indeed. 

Gradually  the  officers'  wagon  became  filled  with  sick 
and  weary  privates,  the  officers  trudging  cheerfully 
through  the  mud  to  relieve  them. 

At  a  cross-road  ten  miles  from  Leesburg,  we  were 
met  by  a  cavalcade  of  rather  a  grotesque  character, 
which  excited  much  laughter,  even  amidst  our  distress 
of  body  and  dejection  of  mind. 

On  a  very  small  mule  an  immense  raw-boned  negro 
sat,  whose  broad  grin  and  great  glaring  eyes  actually 
illumined  the  inanimate  countenance  of  his  master,  by 
whose  side  he  rode.  The  master  possessed  a  gray 
homespun  suit,  large  slouch  hat,  great  iron  spurs, 
rope  bridle,  and  a  gigantic  white  horse,  the  lilipu- 
tian  form  of  whose  rider  appeared  to  fade  into  air,  aa 
he  sat  perched  upon  the  immense  animal.  A  lady 


FEOM  BALL'S  BLUFF  TO  EICHMOND.  17 

rode  by  his  side;*on  a  small  horse,  with  sleek  limbs, 
and  stylish  though  gentle  gait.  The  lady  herself  pre- 
sented a  strange  contrast  with  the  beast,  as  her  figure 
was  large,  her  raiment  gaudy,  and  her  general  appearance 
coarse  and  masculine.  On  meeting  the  front  of  our 
line,  they  halted :  the  negro's  eyes  popped,  the  master's 
face  freshened  slightly,  and  the  lady  burst  forth,  in  a 
stentorian  voice,  "  Is  them  the  Yanks?"  Without 
waiting  for  -a  reply,  she  continued,  her  loud  voice 
reaching  the  entire  length  of  the  line  : — "  Oh,  if  I  had 
my  way,  I'd  kill  you,  you  bloodthirsty  villains  you ! 
You  come  down  here  to  murder  us,  did  you?  What  are 
you  doing  in  that  wagon,  you  sneaking  Yankees  ?  Can't 
you  walk  ?  I'd  make  you  walk  !"  And  so  she  continued 
until  we  had  moved  beyond  the  reach  of  her  voice. 
We  were  subjected  three  times  during  the  day  to  in- 
sulting and  abusive  language, — on  two  occasions  from 
old  women,  and  once  from  an  elderly  gentleman,  when 
a  request  was  made  by  the  officer  in  charge  of  us  for 
the  loan  of  a  wagon  to  convey  the  sick  and  wounded 
privates.  The  old  fellow  not  only  refused,  but  showered 
a  tirade  of  abuse  on  the  officer  for  making  the  request, 
winding  up  by  thundering  out,  "  Let  them  walk  and 
die !" 

Onward  we  marched  until  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, when,  having  reached  a  large  mill  near  Bull 
Eun,  we  were  halted  :  the  privates  were  placed  in  the 
mill,  and  the  officers  accommodated  in  the  miller's 
dwelling.  Here  we  expected  rest  and  food,  having 
marched  without  halting  (except  for  a  moment  or  two 
to  enable  the  line  to  be  closed  up)  for  sixteen  hours, 
during  which  time  we  had  not  received  a  morsel  of 
food. 


18  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

We  were  disappointed,  as  in  a  few  moments  orders 
came  from  General  Beauregard,  and  we  were  again 
'formed,  and  marched  three  miles  nearer  Manassas, 
to  an  old  stone  house  on  the  battle-field  of  July  21. 
This  house  will  always  be  'an  object  of  interest,  as  it 
was  here  our  wounded  were  brought,  and  on  a  large 
field  directly  in  front  of  the  house  the  main  struggle 
of  the  day  was  made.  It  now  bears  the  marks  of 
cannon  and  rifle  balls.  On  the  west  end  a  rifled-cannon 
ball  has  gone  entirely  through  the  building.  At  the 
stone  house  we  halted,  the  privates  bivouacking  in  the 
open  air,  the  officers  in  the  open  house.  At  eleven 
o'clock-  at  night,  we  were  furnished  with  rations  of  fat 
pork  and  corn  bread.  We  had  been  for  forty-eight 
hours  without  sleep,  twenty-four  hours  without  food, 
and  had  marched  seventeen  hours  without  halting  to 
rest, — the  march  being  immediately  preceded  by  the 
fatigues  and  struggle  of  the  battle  of  Ball's  Bluff, 
lasting  from  early  morning  until  dark.  At  daybreak 
on  the  23d  October,  our  march  was  continued  to 
Manassas,  a  distance  of  seven  miles,  where  we  arrived 
at  ten  o'clock  A.M. 

It  is  impossible  to  convey  any  idea  of  the  appearance 
or  strength  of  Manassas  from  the  occasional  glimpses 
we  had  of  successive  earthworks,  camps,  straggling 
soldiers,  and  field-artillery.  Arriving  there,  we  were 
halted  at  the  head-quarters  of  the  provost  marshal, 
where  the  names,  rank,  and  regiments  of  the  officers 
were  registered, — during  which  process  we  were  sur- 
rounded by  a  dense  mass  of  soldiers,  civilians,  and  a 
few  ladies.  Although  no  abusive  language  was  used 
towards  us,  a  peculiar  smile  of  delight,  mingled  with 
contempt,  was  on  every  lip.  That  smile  to  us  has 


FROM  BALL'S  BLUFF  TO  RICHMOND.  19 

since  become  a  Southern  institution ;  for  when  we  find 
a  man  without  it  as  he  looks  upon  the  "Yankees,"  we 
at  once  conclude  that  he  is  a  "  Union"  man. 

From  the  provost  marshal's  we  were  marched  into 
an  old  barn,  where  we  found  a  few  prisoners  arrested 
by  the  Eebels  "  under  suspicion"  of  Union  sentiments. 
Here  we  were  visited  by  scores  of  Confederate  officers 
and  civilians,  none  of  whom  were  in  the  barn  a 
moment  before  they  commenced  discussing  the  poli- 
tical causes  of  the  war.  Conversing  with  that  efferves- 
cing temperament  so  peculiar  to  the  Southern-born, 
their  manner  soon  became  disagreeable  and  quarrel- 
some, and  we  found  it  necessary  to  abstain  from  all 
conversation.  A  few  ladies  came  to  the  barn-door, 
stood  and  gazed  upon  us,  smiled  their  smile  of  con- 
tempt, and  then  went  tripping  away  to  tell  their 
friends  "  how  dirty  and  nasty  the  Yankees  looked." 

At  seven  P.M.  we  were  placed  under  guard  and  es- 
corted to  the  cars  forEichmond,  where  we  arrived,  with- 
out incident,  at  nine  A.M.  on  the  24th  of  October.  "We 
found  the  depot  and  adjacent  streets  thronged  with  a 
dense  mass  of  people.  Men,  women,  and  children 
were  huddled  together,  each  individual  straining  every 
nerve  to  obtain  a  sight  of  us.  Looking  from  the  car- 
windows,  we  beheld  a  tumultuous  herd  swaying  to  and 
fro,  every  eye  fixed  upon  the  cars,  and,  as  one  of  us 
leaned  forward  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  scene,  a 
hundred  fingers  would  be  pointed,  .and  voices  heard 
yelling,  "There  is  one !  See !  there's  a  Yank !" 

After  a  short  delay,  we  were  marched  out  of  the 
cars  into  the  open  street,  eight  abreast,  into  a  hollow 
square  formed  by  the  guard. 

As  far  as  the  eye  could"  reach,  the  populace  were 
2 


:n  i* 

.  .L-i 

-  _i 

—-• 


:,:,-_::^^; 


• 


--._ 


FROM  BALL'S  BLUFF  TO  RICHMOND.  21 

with  sundry  details  of  affairs  on  the  Potomac,  which 
were  gladly  absorbed  by  the  lonely  exiles. 

The  day  was  passed  in  social  communion  and  friendly 
interchange  of  thoughts,  feelings,  and  opinions.  The 
question  prominent  on  every  lip  was,  "  Will  McClellan 
advance  ?"  We  could  not  satisfy  the  earnest*  ques- 
tioners, but  heartily  blended  our  hopes  and  wishes 
that  he  would  speedily  do  so. 

As  the  evening  closed,  and  we  lay  upon  the  floor, — 
a  few  upon  straw  mattresses, — we  but  faintly  realized 
that  henceforth  we  were  prisoners  of  war. 


22  PEISON-LIFE    AT   RICHMOND. 


5 


CHAPTER  II. 

OUR   PRISON. 

THE  Tobacco  Warehouse,  where  the  officers  and  two 
hundred  and  fifty  privates  are  confined,  is  situated  in 
the  lower  portion  of  the  city,  on  the  southwest  corner 
of  Twenty-Fifth  and  Main  Streets,  and  was  occupied, 
previous  to  being  used  as  a  military  prison,  by  Messrs. 
Liggon  &  Co.  for  manufacturing  and  storing  tobacco. 

It  is  a  large,  three-story  brick  building,  built  in  a 
substantial  manner,  and  peculiarly  adapted  for  prison 
and  hospitajpurposes.  The  main  (or  first)  floor  is 
allotted  to  the  officers,  fifty  of  whom  are  its  present 
(December  1,  1861)  occupants.  The  second  and  third 
floors  contain  each  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  pri- 
vates. In  the  centre  of  the  officers'  floor  is  placed  the 
machinery  for  pressing  and  preparing  tobacco,  dividing 
it  into  two  equal  sections, — the  western  being  used  for 
eating  and  writing  purposes,  the  eastern  for  prome- 
nading and  sleeping.  Ten  mess-tables,  made  of  rough 
pine  boards,  and  a  number  of  wooden  benches  and 
stools,  occupy  the  main  portion  of  the  western  division ; 
and  the  floor  is  well  covered  in  the  eastern  by  bed- 
steads and  cots  of  Southern  and  prison  manufacture. 
The  latter  are  primitive  yet  unique  in  style,  being  of 
the  simplest  structure  that  rough  boards  and  a  few 
nails  can  accomplish. 

The  length  of  the  officers'  room  is  sixty-five  feet  nine 


OUR  PRISON.  23 

ches,  width  forty-five  feet,  height  twelve  feet  three 
ches ;  one-half  of  which  space  is  occupied  by  the  ma- 
tinery  in  the  centre  and  northern  portion  of  the  floor, 
ae  room  is  lighted  by  five  windows  on  the  west  or 
wer  side,  and  three  on  the  east  or  city  side.  Those 
L  the  east  are  level  with  the  street,  and  well  protected 
r  iron  bars ;  the  west  windows  are  without  bars,  but 
>uble-guarded  by  sentinels  placed  in  the  yard. 
The  sills  of  those  in  the  west  are  used  as  pantries  by 
e  stewards,  and  a  curious  assortment  of  stores  is  often 
splayed, — tin  cups,  plates,  knives  and  forks,  a  cup  of 
itter,  saucer  of  salt,  paper  of  pepper,  loaf  of  bread, 
Id  beef,  comb  and  brush,  whisk  broom,  towels,  a  wet 
irt  drying,  shaving-apparatus,  bottle  of  vinegar,  &c. 
The  room  is  lighted  by  gas,  the  use  of  which  is  either 
ndly  or  unwittingly  given  at  all  hours  of  the  day :  we 
;e  it  for  cooking  as  well  as  illuminating,  purposes,  and 
.e  odor  of  hot  coffee  and  occasional  stews  may  be 
ented  daily  throughout  the  room.  At  nine  o'clock 
3  have  breakfast,  consisting  of  fresh  beef, — occasion- 
ly  liver, — with  five  ounces  of  bread ;  at  one  o'clock 
nner, — boiled  or  roast  beef,  with  five  ounces  of  bread ; 
i  six  o'clock  supper, — five  ounces  of  bread. 
The  Confederate  government  furnishes  the  rations 
bread  and  beef,  with  salt  and  brown  soap.  All  other 
•tides  of  food  are  provided  by  the  prisoners,  at  the 
llowing  prices : — Tea,  $4  per  pound ;  coffee,  $1  per 
)und ;  brown  sugar,  20  cents ;  butter,  60  cents ;  po- 
loes,  $2  per  bushel;  molasses,  $1.25  per  gallon.  The 
)st  of  extra  rations,  which  are  confined  to  the  fore- 
Ding  articles,  averages  $2.50  per  week  for  each  officer. 
The  cook-house  of  the  officers  is  located  in  the  prison- 
ed, and  is  separate  from  that  of  the  privates.  The 


2-i  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

attendants  have  been  selected  from  a  number  of  negroes 
who  have  been  captured  while  acting  as  officers'  ser- 
vants. 

John  Wesley  Khoads,  of  Bailey's  Cross-Eoads,  Vir- 
ginia, an  elderly  colored  gentleman,  acts  as  chief  cook. 
He  is  an  honor  to  his  profession,  compiling  with  scien- 
tific skill  the  intricate  dishes  comprising  our  bill  of  fare. 
The  officers  have  ten  messes,  each  independent  of  the 
other,  yet  drawing  their  respective  rations  of  bread 
and  meat  from  the  Confederate  government.  To  each 
mess  is  assigned  a  steward, — generally  a  non-commis- 
sioned officer  or  private  who  is  held  as  a  prisoner  of 
war. 

The  duty  of  the  steward  is  to  receive  the  allotment 
of  cooked  food  for  each  mess,  prepare  the  table  for 
meals,  and  attend  to  such  duties  as  may  be  assigned 
him  by  the  Sanitary  Committee. 

This  committee  consists  of  three  members,  appointed 
from  time  to  time  by  the  Association,  and  has  control 
over  all  matters  relating  to  the  comfort  and  cleanliness 
of  the  rooms.  When  an  officer  is  brought  a  prisoner 
to  our  warehouse,  he  is  presented  with  a  tin  plate  and 
pint  cup :  to  complete  his  crockery,  he  is  allowed  to 
purchase  a  knife,  fork,  and  spoon  at  blockade-prices : 
he  is  also  furnished  with  a  cotton  coverlet,  and  five 
yards  of  brown  cotton  muslin,  from  which  to  prepare  a 
bed-tick.  When  finished,  he  is  permitted  to  go  into 
the  yard,  where,  from  a  large  pile  of  straw,  he  fills 
the  tick.  Then,  shouldering  the  unwieldy  mattress,  he 
staggers  into  the  room  and  seeks  a  vacant  spot,  which 
hereafter  shall  be  sacred  to  himself. 

At  eight  o'clock  each  morning,  the  clerk  of  the 
prison,  accompanied  by  the  officer  of  the  day,  calls  the 


OUR   PRISON.  25 

roll.  When  an  officer's  name  is  called,  he  is  required 
to  pass  by  the  clerk,  remaining  on  his  left  until  the 
roll  is  completed.  Occasionally  the  officer  in  charge 
becomes  negligent,  and  days  pass  without  the  attend- 
ance of  the  roll-sergeant.  When  daily  required,  it 
becomes  one  of  the  many  petty  annoyances  of  our 
prison-life. 

At  nine  P.M.  the  officer  of  the  day  commands, 
"  Lights  out !"  and  we  are  expected  to  prepare  for  bed. 
The  strictness  of  this  order  varies  with  the  disposition 
of  the  officers  in  charge.  By  some,  the  gas  is  imme- 
diately turned  off,  with  the  remark,  in  one  instance, 
"  We  don't  mind  the  gas,  but  you  must  go  to  bed  at 
nine  o'clock."  Others  allow  one  burner  for  any  length 
of  time  we  desire ;  yet  occasionally  we  neglect  to  ex- 
tinguish the  remaining  light,  premising  that  our  accom- 
modating officer  is  on  duty, — in  which  case  one  of  the 
guard  is  ordered  in  to  turn  off  the  gas.  If,  as  often 
happens,  the  soldier  is  from  the  backwoods,  and  igno- 
rant of  the  nature  of  gas-fixtures,  he  awkwardly  fum- 
bles at  them,  turning  on  those  burning  dimly,  and 
reversing  things  generally.  So,  if  they  do  leave  us  in 
total  darkness,  we  go  to  bed  under  the  influence  of  a 
jolly  good  laugh, — the  only  exercise  unrestricted  by 
our  prison-walls. 

Amid  the  hearty  roars  of  laughter  and  general  hurly- 
burly  tumult  of  preparing  our  beds  in  the  dark,  a  voice 
will  be  heard  exclaiming,  "  Keep  quiet,  gentlemen,  do, 
if  you  please  :  you  might  wake  up  the  guard." 

When  an  officer  is  desirous  of  visiting  his  men,  con- 
fined in  the  adjacent  warehouse,  he  makes  his  request 
known  to  the  officer  of  the  day,  who  asks  permission  of 
the  commandant  of  the  post.  After  repeated  importu- 


26  PKISON-LIFE   AT    RICHMOND. 

nities,  it  will  sometimes  be  granted  a  week  subsequent 
to  the  first  request.  The  same  delay  often  occurs  in 
visiting  sick  or  dying  men  in  the  hospital,  as  the  follow- 
ing incident  will  illustrate : — 

On  the  17th  of  December,  the  writer  was  informed 
of  the  serious  illness  of  a  private  in  his  company, — 
Eobert  McMennamin,  of  Philadelphia, — then  in  the 
hospital.  Desirous  of  visiting  him,  application  was 
made  to  the  roll-sergeant  of  the  prison,  and  through 
him  to  the  officer  of  the  day,  who  presented  the  request 
to  the  commandant  of  the  post.  In  a  few  hours  the 
reply  came  that  the  request  could  not  be  granted. 

Later  in  the  day,  information  was  received  that  the 
poor  fellow  was  very  low,  and  could  not  possibly  live 
through  the  night. 

Resolved  to  see  him,  and  ignoring  prison-rules  and 
persons,  the  writer  watched  the  street  and  hailed  the 
commandant  through  the  bars :  he  came,  listened,  and 
granted  the  urgent  demand.  Placed  in  charge  of  the 
guard,  we  entered  the  hospital,  and  found  McMenna- 
min on  the  third  floor,  lying  upon  a  cot,  in  the  last 
stages  of  typhoid  fever.  As  the  writer  bent  over  him 
and  received  his  dying  words, — "  Lieutenant,  see  to  my 
mother  and  little  children," — and  looked  upon  his  hag- 
gard and  wasted  features,  his  shadow-like  frame,  sunken 
yet  burning  eye,  he  realized  the  unutterable  horror  of 
war. 

That  man  dying  in  this  lonely  hospital,  without  a 
mother's  gentle  nursing  or  wife's  thrilling  tenderness 
to  mellow  the  agony  of  death, — ah  !  it  was  a  scene  to 
touch  the  strong  heart.  No  bolder  spirit  than  his  ever 
braved  the  bullet  and  bayonet,  no  truer  heart  beat 
round  our  camp-fires,  no  gayer  voice  rang  with  the 


OUK   PRISON.  27 

wild  notes  of  the  bivouac-song.  Loved,  honored,  the 
boast  and  pride  of  his  companions,  he  died  far  from 
home  and  friends,  and  we  know  not  where  "  he  sleeps 
his  last  sleep." 

Visitors  occasionally  arrive  at  the  prison,  requesting 
of  the  officer  permission  to  see  a  prisoner  known  to 
them.  They  are  referred  to  General  Winder,  to  visit 
whom  and  procure  his  written  authority  often  occupies 
half  the  day.  In  the  mean  time  the  young  officer  of  \ 
the  day  has  piloted  through  the  room  several  strings  of 
his  personal  friends,  who  gaze  at  us  as  if  we  were  Hot- 
tentots or  cannibals.  When  a  Federal  officer  is  visited, 
the  officer  of  the  day  announces,  in  a  loud  tone,  that 
"A  gentleman  wishes  to  see  him:"  upon  his  return 
from  the  prison -office  he  is  immediately  congratulated 
upon  being  released;  and  it  is  only  after  repeated 
efforts  that  he  convinces  our  little  band  that  he  is 
still  part  of  our  confederacy. 

Thirty  minutes  are  allowed  to  visitors  for  conversa- 
tion with  a  prisoner,  which  is  generally  held  in  the 
presence  of  several  officers  connected  with  the  post. 

Letters,  after  undergoing  supervision  in  Norfolk,  are 
sent  to  General  Winder,  where  much  delay  occurs  be- 
fore they  are  assorted  and  delivered.  When  asked  for, 
the  reply  has  been  made, — "  The  postmaster  has  not 
had  time  to  arrange  them."  Occasionally  they  are 
brought  to  the  prison-office,  and  subjected  again  to 
delay ;  and  often  it  requires  repeated  and  urgent  re- 
quests for  the  privilege  of  assorting  and  delivering 
them. 

At  one  time,  the  penny-post  brought  them  direct 
from  the  post-office  and  delivered  them  personally  to 
the  prisoners,  with  which  arrangement  we  were  much 


28  PRISON-LIFE   AT    RICHMOND. 

pleased;  but,  owing  to  a  personal  difficulty  between  the 
commandant  of  the  post  and  the  letter-carrier,  he  dis- 
continued bringing  them.  The  privates  suffer  still 
more,  as  an  increased  interval  occurs  with  their  letters 
between  receipt  and  delivery. 

It  is  amusing  to  observe  the  strictness  and  severity 
of  our  martinet  officers  of  the  day,  when  the  details 
of  the  system  upon  which  they  act  are  so  loosely  con- 
nected together.  The  officers  attached  to  the  post 
are,  one  commandant,  and  four  lieutenants,  acting 
officers  of  the  day, — one  of  whom  inaugurates  a  system 
to-day,  another  to-morrow,  and  a  third  on  the  next  has 
none :  hence  it  is  usual  with  us,  when  we  wish  to  visit 
our  men  or  present  other  requests,  first  to  inquire  who 
is  officer  of  the  day. 

"  Is  Yankee-Killer  ?"  "  No."  "  Is  the  tall,  accom- 
modating officer  ?"  "  No."  "  Is  the  little  fellow  who 
drinks  so  much  whiskey  ?"  "  Yes."  Then  we  are  safe 
in  asking  any  thing,  for  he  is  both  kind  and  drunk  all 
the  time. 

In  the  early  part  of  January,  a  change  occurred  in 
the  administration  of  our  prison,  caused  by  the  depart- 
ure of  Captain  Gibbs,  the  commandant  of  the  post,  to 
Salisbury,  North  Carolina,  to  assume  charge  of  the 
Federal  prisoners  confined  there,  Captain  A.  C.  God- 
win, of  the  C.  S.  Army,  being  placed  in  command  at 
Richmond. 

On  the  day  the  change  occurred,  Brigadier-General 
Winder  was  seen  to  visit  the  prison-office ;  and  it  soon 
became  known  in  the  officers'  room  that  our  new  com- 
mandant would  inaugurate  a  fresh  system  of  regula- 
tions,— which  caused  much  amusement,  as  experience 
had  taught  us  that  prison-systems  at  our  warehouse 


OUR   PRISON.  29 

were  ephemeral,  and  apt  to  vaporize  upon  the  assump- 
tion of  duty  by  each  succeeding  officer  of  the  day. 

"We  were  informed  that  our  errand-boy  would  cease 
his  duties  from  that  day ;  that  hereafter  no  communi- 
ca^on  would  be  allowed  with  the  " outer  world;"  that 
our  luxuries  must  be  in  future  procured  through  the 
corporal  of  the  guard,  who  was  instructed  to  carry 
every  article  purchased  into  the  office  for  inspection. 
He  obeyed  his  orders  strictly  in  one  instance,  to  the 
personal  knowledge  of  the  writer,  by  carrying  to  the 
officer  of  the  day  the  basket  containing  the  half-peck 
of  potatoes  required  by  "our  mess." 

Previous  to  the  advent  of  the  new  commandant,  we 
habitually  slumbered  in  the  morning  until  eight  or  nine 
o'clock,  as  a  resource  to  shorten  the  drear  tediousness 
of  the  day ;  but,  alas !  on  the  22d  of  January  our  realm 
of  slumber  was  invaded,  and  we  were  aroused  shortly 
after  daybreak,  and  summoned  to  attend  roll-call  by 
the  officer  of  the  day  surnamed  "  Yankee-Killer,"  ac- 
companied by  a  file  of  Confederate  soldiers. 

The  astonishment  with  which  the  dreamy,  half-re- 
cumbent sleepers  received  the  call,  the  husky,  inquiring 
voices,  the  reluctant,  drowsy  lassitude  evinced  by  all, 
gave  evidence  of  the  unwelcome  nature  of  the  order. 
With  slow  and  intentionally  lazy  movements  we  pre- 
pared to  obey  :  each  garment  was  handled  with  a  stu- 
died yet  demure  awkwardness  ;  boots  were  put  on  the 
wrong  foot,  legs  were  reversed  in  pantaloons,  and  coats 
manoeuvred  to  change  front  to  rear.  In  the  mean  time, 
"  Yankee-Killer,"  erect,  attentive  to  the  scene,  with 
anger-clouds  marring  the  effeminate  delicacy  of  his 
features,  and  feverish  fingers  restlessly  fondling  his 


30  PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND. 

sword-hilt,  stood  watching  the  sluggish  preparations 
around  him. 

The  Secesh  guard  looked  upon  the  scene  with  asto- 
nished eyes.  They  could  not  realize  that  Yankee 
prisoners  had  courage  sufficient  to  loiter  in  obeying 
an  order  from  the  stern  yet  truly  harmless  "  Yankee- 
Killer."  Thirty  minutes  elapsed  before  our  clothing 
was  adjusted  properly  for  the  ceremony  of  roll-call. 
Upon  its  completion,  twenty  voices  were  mingled  in 
whistling  the  stirring,  rollicking  notes  of  "  Yankee 
Doodle,"  and  our  friend  marched  out  of  the  warehouse 
with  his  soldiers,  probably  anathematizing  the  un- 
quenched  spirit  of  "the  eternal  Yankee."  With  no 
other  officer  would  these  scenes  have  been  enacted :  he 
alone  appears  to  gratify  his  personal  bitterness  by 
drawing  roughly  the  prison-shackles  around  us. 

The  regulations  of  our  new  commandant  remained 
in  force  a  few  days,  to  annoy  us  and  circumscribe  our 
privileges,  and  then  faded  away  like  their  predecessors. 

To  assist  them  in  carrying  on  the  commissary  and 
hospital  departments  of  the  prisons,  the  Confederate 
authorities  select  the  many  assistants  needed  from  the 
prisoners  of  war;  and  it  must  be  acknowledged  that 
they  show  great  discrimination  of  character, — for  they 
have  chosen  the  most  intelligent  and  serviceable.  With 
the  exception  of  the  commissioned  officers  and  attend- 
ant surgeons,  the  entire  organization  is  composed  of 
Federal  assistants,  who  serve  because  they  in  a  mea- 
sure add  to  the  Comfort  and  welfare  of  their  fellow- 
prisoners.  The  following  remark  made  by  a  Confede- 
rate officer  will  show  the  estimate  placed  upon  them : — 
"  There  is  more  ingenuity  and  industry  in  the  Yankee 
prisoners  of  Eichmond  than  in  the  whole  Southern 


OUR    PRISON.  31 

Confederacy."  Each  floor  containing  privates  is  placed 
under  the  charge  of  one  of  their  number,  who  is  called 
the  " sergeant  of  the  floor,"$and  often  possesses  an 
authority  with  the  Secesh  guards  not  usually  exercised 
by  prisoners  over  jailers.  A  few  of  them  have  the 
parole  of  the  city,  and  often  aid  the  officers  in  prison 
by  making  purchases,  and  bringing  welcome  intelli- 
gence of  Secession  reverses, — news  considered  contra- 
band by  the  officer  in  charge. 

At  the  time  of  the  writer's  advent  in  the  warehouse, 
(October  24;)  there  had  been  considerable  amelioration 
of  the  treatment  and  condition  of  the  officers. 

The  Federal  officers  captured  at  Manassas  were  con- 
veyed in  the  cars  to  Richmond,  and  thrust,  with  six 
hundred  privates,  into  a  warehouse, — where,  sweltering 
with  the  heat  of  midsummer,  with  closed  windows,  and 
not  room  sufficient  for  them  all  to  lie  wedge-packed 
upon  the  floor,  they  remained,  suffering  and  without 
food,  for  nearly  twenty-four  hours.  They  were  then 
removed  to  their  present  quarters,  yet  were  permitted 
to  occupy  only  half  the  space  subsequently  allotted 
them, — the  eastern  section  of  the  room  being  filled 
with  the  prison-guard  and  sentinels  on  post  upon  the 
same  floor,  with  orders  to  bayonet  all  who  approached 
within  three  feet  of  them. 

For  weeks  they  slept  upon  the  floor,  without  blankets 
or  overcoats,  with  blocks  of  wood — and  not  enough 
even  of  those — for  pillows.  It  was  not  until  three 
months  had  elapsed  that  the  Confederate  authorities 
furnished  straw  and  cotton  coverlets.  Without  ser- 
vants, mess-tables,  benches,  or  even  knives  and  forks, 
they  ate  their  meals  cross-legged  upon  the  floor,  and 
off  the  window-sills,  in  a  primitive,  yet  (owing  to  the 


32  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

quantity  furnished)  ravenous,  style.  Without  water- 
facilities,  except  a  well  in  the  yard,  which  was  used 
not  only  by  the  officers,  but  also  by  five  hundred  men 
confined  in  the  upper  stories  of  the  warehouse,  one 
of  whom  only  was  allowed  to  use  it  at  a  time,  hours 
would  pass  each  morning  before  an  officer  was  able 
to  wash. 

Visitors  of  all  grades  were  allowed  to  enter  the 
building,  and  often  subjected  £hem,  in  the  presence  of 
Confederate  officers  -of  the  prison,  to  the  vilest  abuse. 
Outside  of  the  warehouse,  the  square  was  for  weeks 
packed  with  Rebels,  who,  whenever  they  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  Federal  officer,  hooted  at  and  insulted  him. 
Richmond  had,  apparently,  given  up  her  rabble  and 
filth  to  centre  around  the  "  Yankee"  prisons, — as  men, 
women,  and  even  little  children  scarcely  old  enough  to 
walk,  united  in  heaping  scurrilous  abuse  upon  them. 

Although  in  October  the  treatment  of  the  officers 
has  improved,  that  of  the  privates  remains  the  same. 
Two  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty-eight  have 
been  confined  in  Richmond  since  the  commencement  of 
hostilities;  and  their  condition  in  the  upper  stories  of 
the  warehouse  is  harrowing  to  the  sternest  heart. 
With  the  floor  for  a  bed,  without  straw,  many  without 
pantaloons,  all  with  '"scant  raiment,  but  few  with 
blankets,  wh$st  the^een  air  of  mid-winter  pierces 
through  the  ill-protected  building, — receiving  half 
the  ration  o£  'food  allowed  in  the  Federal  army, 
covered  with  vermin,  starved  and  shivering, — they 
are  crowded  together  in  herds.  Regardless  of  life, 
dead  to  the  dictates  of  humanity,  their  jailers  see 
them  die  daily, — apparently  without  sympathy,  evi- 
dently without  attempting  to  prevent  mortality. 


OUR   PRISON.  33 

At  ten  o'clock  they  are  furnished  with  breakfast, 
consisting  of  a  small  piece  of  cold  beef  and  five  ounces 
of  bread;  at  seven  P.M.  they  receive  about  a  half-pint 
of  soup  and  five  ounces  of  bread,  with  rice  occasionally 
in  lieu  of  meat.  They  receive  but  two  meals  per  day, 
and  those  of  the  poorest  quality.  The  rice  is  often 
wormy;  the  meat  is  cooked  two  days  before  consumed, 
and  lies  exposed  in  a  trough  in  the  yard;  becoming 
covered  with  dust  and  ashes,  and  the  juice  being  ex- 
tracted by  making  soup  for  one  meal  before  the  meat 
is  served,  dry  and  hard,  for  the  next. 

For  two  weeks  the  men  have  not  been  able  to  pro- 
cure water  or  brooms  with  which  to  scrub  the  floor, 
and  the  dirt  and  bones  are  swept  into  one  corner :  it 
cannot  be  thrown  from  the  window,  the  sentinel  having 
orders  to  shoot  any  one  who  approaches  it. 

Seven  Federal  prisoners  have  been  shot  dead  by  the 
sentinels  for  inadvertently  leaning  from  the  windows. 

They  have  been  known  to  hunt  for  a  bone  from  the 
pile  of  filth,  and  gnaw  eagerly  upon  it.  There  tTeing 
but  one  hydrant  in  the  yard,  for  the  use  of  five  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men,  they  are  kept  waiting  for  hours 
in  line  before  being  able  to  reach  it;  and  the  same 
buckets  used  for  distributing  meat  and  soup  are  fur- 
nished them  for  washing  their  bodies  and  clothes. 

One  small  stove  is  put  into  a  room  eighty  feet  long 
by  fifty  wide;  and  the  men  are  forced  to  walk  half 
the  night  to  keep  from  freezing  during  the  other  half. 

Every  day,  from  early  morning  until  late  at  night, 
emaciated  soldiers  may  be  seen  waiting  longingly  for 
the  surplus  bread  and  meat  from  the  officers'  table. 
It  is  a  scene  of  piteous  sadness  when  a  steward  brings 
forth  a  pan  of  food  to  distribute  among  them.  As  he 


34  PRISON-LIFE    AT    RICHMOND. 

appears,  every  soldier's  eye  glares  with  a  hungry  look, 
arms  are  reached  forth  beyond  the  sentry's  musket, 
and  each  man  jostles  with  his  neighbor  for  a  crust  of 
bread,  and  crunches  his  share  with  eager,  ravenous 
haste. 

The  hospitals  for  the  prisoners  of  war  are  located 
on  Main  Street,  adjacent  to  the  prison-warehouse. 
The  buildings  are  similar  to  the  latter  in  every  respect, 
consisting  of  three  stories,  each  floor  of  which  is  sub- 
ject to  the  following  sanitary  regulations  : — 

Four  rows  of  camp-cots,  containing  eighty  beds, 
occupy  the  room. 

Twelve  nurses  are  in  attendance, — eight  during  the 
day,  four  at  night ;  two  sergeants,  alternating  day  and 
night  in  their  duties,  who  alone  give  the  medicines  to 
the  sick ;  and  one  steward,  having  charge  of  the  com- 
missary and  culinary  departments. 

For  a  long  period  previous  to  the  release  of  the 
Federal  sick  and  wounded  prisoners,  one  hundred  and 
sixty  in  number,  they  were  attended  by  one  physician 
only.  Drs.  Fletcher  and  Eevere,  Federal  surgeons, 
were  for  a  short  time  permitted  to  attend  the  hospitals, 
subject  to  a  parole  which  confined  them  to  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  the  prison :  they  were  of  incalculable 
benefit  to  the  prisoners,  who  suffered  much  for  the 
want  of  proper  medical  attendance. 

When  the  sick  were  released  and  sent  North,  the 
Federal  surgeons  were  abruptly  informed  that  their 
parole  had  expired,  and  we  welcomed  them  once  more 
to  our  "  pent-uj)  Utica." 

The  food  furnished  in  the  hospital  is  of  good  quality 
and  well  cooked,  consisting  of  beef,  beef-soup,  potatoes, 
coffee  and  tea,  with  molasses  and  milk  occasionally. 


OUR    PRISON.  35 

The  building  is  kept  in  excellent  order,  the  attend- 
ants being  prisoners  of  war ;  yet,  owing  to  the  sick 
being  removed  from  the  crowded  prison  direct  to  the 
hospital-wards,  they  transfer  with  them  myriads  of 
body -vermin;  and  often  men  have  lain  for  days  in  a 
typhus  condition,  infested  with  vermin,  nauseating  to 
sight,  yet  incapable  of  being  cleansed,  owing  to  the 
nature  of  the  disease.  When  a  private  becomes  un- 
well, no  medicine  is  furnished  until  he  is  sufficiently 
ill  to  be  removed  to  the  hospital.  This  fact,  with  the 
natural  aversion  they  have  to  being  removed  thither, 
adds  to  the  mortality. 

We  have  been  informed  that  upon  the  arrival  of 
the  Federal  wounded  prisoners  from  Manassas,  the  entire 
stock  of  lint  and  bandages  in  the  hospital  was  fur- 
nished by  the  Unionists  of  Richmond.  The  papers  at 
that  time  reeked  with  the  foulest  abuse  of  their  govern- 
ment for  devoting  even  a  small  portion  of  its  resources 
of  medical  aid  to  the  U.S.  wounded,  when  their  own  were 
thronging  the  city,  making  it  one  vast  charnel-house. 

Looking  from  the  west  windows  of  our  room,  we  see 
daily  from  one  to  three  corpses  brought  from  the  hos- 
pital to  the  yard,  and  deposited  in  pine  coffins.  These 
are  from  the  hospital  exclusively  used  for  prisoners.  In 
the  morning  a  hearse  arrives,  receives  the  coffins,  and 
drives  away,  none  knowing  where  or  how  the  poor 
fellows  are  buried. 

The  disease  most  prevalent  is  typhoid  fever ;  and  the 
great  mortality  arises  in  part  from  patients  being  dis- 
charged from  the  hospital  during  the  .early  stages  of 
convalescence.  A  relapse  occurs,  and  death  generally 
ensues. 

John  Riley,  sergeant  of  Company  H,  California  Eegi- 


36  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

ment,  a  man  forty  years  of  age,  upright,  brave,  and  a 
veteran  soldier,  became  sick,  and  was  taken  to  the  hos- 
pital. In  a  few  days  he  was  brought,  staggering  from 
weakness,  yet  under  guard,  to  his  quarters.  As  he 
passed  across  the  officers'  floor  to  the  stairs,  the  writer 
said  to  him,  in  astonishment,  "  John,  you  are  not  able 
to  come  out.  "Why  did  you  leave  the  hospital  ?" 

"  Ah,  lieutenant,"  was  the  answer,  "  I  ate  a  little 
breakfast  this  morning ;  and  when  they  found  I  could 
eat,  they  told  me  I  must  go  back  and  make  room  for 
others  sicker  than  I  am." 

During  the  suffering  and  destitution  the  men  daily  ex- 
perienced,— suffering  calculated  to  deaden  every  energy 
of  life,  and  render  turbid  the  natural  buoyant  impulses 
of  man's  nature, — the  Federal  privates  had  resources 
within  themselves  to  soften  the  rigor  of  their  confine- 
ment. 

Often  did  we  hear  their  fine  glee-club  blending  voices 
in  the  notes  of  our  national  songs,  whilst  "  Home, 
Sweet  Home"  would  come  trilling  to  our  ears  through 
the  plank  ceiling  above  us. 

Theatrical  amusements  and  working  in  bone  and 
wood  served  to  lessen  the  tedium  of  imprisonment. 

Specimens  of  their  skill  in  producing  from  bone 
trinkets  of  beautiful,  workmanship  were  bought  with 
avidity  by  the  Confederate  and  their  own  officers. 
Finger-rings  of  exquisite  and  unique  chasing,  Maltese, 
crosses  of  elaborate  finish,  and  curious  national  em- 
blems of  quaint  design,  portraying  the  skill  whilst 
suggesting  the  patriotism  of  the  carver,  cut  from  bone 
and  carved  with  the  rudest  tools, — a  jack-knife  and  file, 
— were  the  results  of  the  constant  employment  of  the 
men. 


OUR   PRISON.  37 

At  one  period  General  Winder  issued  an  order 
making  files  contraband  of  war  within  prison -walls; 
but  the  men  laughed  at  the  prohibition,  and  the  order 
was  never  enforced. 

Not  in  manual  labor  alone  do  they  commemorate 
their  sufferings  and  imprisonment :  an  association  exists 
among  them  to  perpetuate  the  records  of  their  confine- 
ment, and  to  serve  as  a  nucleus  round  which  they  may 
gather  in  brotherhood  when  the  period  of  their  incar- 
ceration is  ended.  It  is  called  the  "  Union  Prisoners' 
Association/'  and  is  governed  by  the  following  officers, 
all  of  whom  belong  to  the  rank  and  file  of  Colonel 
Baker's  California  Regiment : — 

A.  J.  M'Cleary,  President. 

Alonzo  M.  Barnes,  Vice-President. 

Alva  L.  Morris,  Recording  Secretary. 

"William  H.  Sloanaker,  Corresponding  Secretary. 

Harry  A.  Harding,  Treasurer. 

Executive  Committee,  William  Scott,  Charles  B. 
Street,  G.  C.  Snyder,  A.  J.  Spellbrink,  George  Heston. 

As  donations  of  clothing  arrived  from  the  North,  and 
detachments  of  the  prisoners  were  sent  home  and  to 
the  South  by  the  Confederates,  the  condition  of  those 
remaining  in  Richmond  became  improved. 

Change  of  quarters  in  some  instances  enabled  the 
men  to  cleanse  themselves,  and  the  liberal  gifts  of 
clothing  from  Northern  friends  prevented,  in  a  mea- 
sure, the  further  accumulation  of  body-vermin;  and, 
more  space  and  increased  water- facilities  being  fur-, 
nished,  all  were  able  to  keep  their  bodies  clean  and 
partially  invigorate  them  by  exercise,  though  re- 
stricted to  their  in-door  quarters. 


38  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

January  13  and  14  were  gala-days  within  prison- 
walls.  Appeals  had  been  made  by  the  imprisoned 
officers  of  Colonel  Baker's  California  Regiment  to  the 
citizens  of  Philadelphia  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering 
privates  in  the  Richmond  warehouses.  A  warm  re- 
sponse and  welcome  contributions  quickly  followed, — the 
packages  arriving  at  the  warehouse  and  being  opened 
for  distribution  on  the  above  days. 

The  officers'  floor  had  the  appearance  of  a  bazaar 
rather  than  of  a  prison,  as  the  different  articles,  consist- 
ing of  coats,  pants,  vests,  boots,  shirts,  drawers,  stock- 
ings, towels,  sponge,  soap,  combs,  tooth-brushes,  sewing- 
bags,  and  even  dressing-gowns,  were  strewn  promis- 
cuously around, — presenting  to  our  shabby  guards  a 
picture  of  tempting  comfort  towards  which  in  vain 
they  "cast  a  wishful  eye."  The  Governor  of  Massa- 
chusetts had  forwarded  in  the  latter  part  of  December 
three  hundred  and  fifty  complete  suits  of  clothing, — 
thus  maintaining  the  reputation  of  that  noble  old  State 
for  generosity  and  liberal  attention  to  the  wants  of  her 
volunteer  soldiers.  The  clothing  for  the  California 
Regiment  was  contributed  solely  by  private  persons, 
residents  of  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  to  whom  a  more 
fitting  evidence  of  our  gratitude  could  not  be  rendered 
than  to  depict  the  earnest,  expectant  eagerness  with 
which  the  articles  were  received. 

As  name  after  name  was  called,  and  the  poor  fellows 
filed  into  the  room  in  destitution  and  in  rags,  and  were 
sent  back  with  armfuls  of  the  good  things  from  our 
Northern  homes,  their  features  glowing  with  thankful- 
ness and  honest  pride  of  their  generous  and  time- 
honored  birthplace,  full  well  the  scene  would  have 
repaid  the  donors  for 'their  liberal  contributions.  Kind 


OUR   PRISON.  39 

friends  at  home,  do  you  not  see  destitute  men,  after 
months  of  suffering,  gathering  the  treasures  you  have 
sent  them,  in  some  selected  corner  of  the  old  warehouse 
sacred  to  themselves,  counting,  handling,  ay,  gloating 
over  the  rare  comforts  of  this  pitiless  winter  ? 

They  who  sent  this  warm  blanket,  this  heavy  woollen 
shirt,  knew  not,  perhaps,  how  much  of  disease  and 
death  hung  around  these  prison-walls,  of  the  filth  and 
destitution  within  them,  now  cleansed  and  alleviated 
by  the  responsive  sympathy  of  their  generous  hearts. 

The  Hon.  Mr.  Faulkner,  released  by  the  United  States 
government  in  exchange  for  the  Hon.  Mr.  Ely,  M.C., 
of  Eochester,  N.Y.,  visited  us  on  the  21st  day  of 
December,  1861.  We  were  solicitous  of  his  unpreju- 
diced opinion  regarding  the  comparative  treatment  of 
Federal  and  Confederate  prisoners  of  war,  and  were 
gratified  at  the  tenor  and  courteous  sincerity  of  his 
conversation. 

He  passed  through  the  officers'  floor,  greeting  us  with 
much  cordiality  and  evident  sympathy.  His  recent 
arrival  from  France,  brief  residence  in  "Secessia,"  with 
his  ''wheelbarrow  experience"  in  Fort  Warren, had,  no 
doubt,  mellowed  the  bitterness  of  his  Southern  heart, 
— as  we  were  thoroughly  impressed  with  his  kindness 
of  manner  and  the  interest  he  evinced  in  the  details  of 
our  imprisonment  and  treatment. 

After  examination  of  our  quarters,  he  said,  "But 
little  difference  existed  between  them  and  those  of  the 
Confederate  prisoners  at  Fort  Warren,  excepting  in 
out-door  exercise,  which  was  imperatively  needed,  and, 
he  hoped,  would  soon  be  allowed  us." 

He  expressed  his  opinion  that  a  general  exchange 


40  PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND. 

would  speedily  occur;  by  which  remark  he  added  a 
new  chapter  to  our  already  voluminous  text-book, 
"Hart  on  Exchange." 

After  conversing  socially  for  a  short  time,  he  was 
passing  from  the  building,  when  an  officer  suggested 
that  probably  he  was  desirous  of  visiting  the  quarters 
of  the  privates.  He  remarked  that  he  had  just  passed 
through  them.  Upon  being  informed  of  his  error, — 
that  those  he  was  now  in  belonged  to  the  officers, — he 
appeared  much  astonished,  and  desired  to  be  shown 
those  of  the  privates. 

He  was  led  into  the  upper  stories,  and  evinced  sur- 
prise and  pity  at  the  condition  and  treatment  of  our 
soldiers. 

During  his  visit  to  our  warehouse,  he  expressed  the 
following  opinions : — 

"  That  United  States  officers  in  Eichmond  received 
treatment  similar  to  that  of  the  Confederate  privates  in 
the  North. 

"That  United  States  privates  were  treated  much 
worse  than  Confederate  privates  were  in  the  North. 

"  That  the  privateers  North  received  every  comfort 
possible  under  the  circumstances. 

"That  the  Federal  hostages  in  Eichmond  jail  were 
treated  far  worse  than  the  privateers  were  in  the 
North." 

Mr.  Faulkner  has  placed  himself  under  the  ban  of 
Secession  displeasure  by  maintaining  a  "masterly  in- 
activity" on  the  subject  of  the  Eebellion,  since  his  re- 
turn from  the  North.  The  Eichmond  press  coarsely 
abuse  him  for  a  want  of  patriotism,  intimating  that  he 
is  at  heart  a  "Unionist;"  and  Confederate  officers  have 


OUR   PRISON.  41 

declared  in  our  prison  that  a  shrewd  "  Yankee"  trick 
had  been  played  upon  them  in  exchanging  Mr.  Faulk- 
ner for  Mr.  Ely, — that  it  inaugurated  a  new  system  of 
exchange,  "  a  Yankee  for  a  Yankee." 

Union  men — or,  more  properly,  prisoners  under  sus- 
picion of  Union  sentiments — are  confined  in  an  adjacent 
warehouse.  The  condition  of  our  own  soldiers  is  har- 
rowing to  the  heart;  but  sympathy,  pity,  and  impul- 
sive horror  are  called  forth  by  the  contemplation  of 
the  treatment  received  by  the  Union  men. 

Taken  from  the  backwoods,  often  whilst  in  the  field 
at  the  plough,  and  conveyed  to  Bichmond,  without 
change  of  clothing,  they  are  huddled  together,  two  hun- 
dred and  eighty-nine  in  number,  in  the  lower  room 
of  the  warehouse  occupied  by  the  Federal  privates. 
Young  boys,  scarcely  old  enough  to  know  what  Union 
means,  old  men,  ragged,  unshaven,  filthy,  trembling 
with  age, — in  one  instance  totally  blind, — a  few  so  help- 
less that  they  were  led  about  the  room, — covered  with 
vermin  to  such  an  extent  that  even  the  vermin-afflicted 
soldiers  shun  contact  with  them, — the  ignorant  and 
educated,  the  filthy  and  refined,  are  mingled  in  one 
mass  of  misery  and  stench.  Nearly  all  are  afflicted  with 
incipient  consumption,  brought  on  by  want  of  proper 
raiment  and  by  the  cold,  biting  draughts  through  the 
building.  Two  have  died  in  their  plank  bunks  on  the 
prison-floor,  from  lack  of  attention  and  medical  assist- 
ance ;  ten  per  cent,  have  died  in  the  hospitals ;  whilst 
two-thirds  of  those  taken  there  die  in  consequence  of 
the  fatal  progress  the  disease  has  made  previous  to 
their  removal  from  the  prison.  Many  have  an  idiotic 
appearance;  whilst  all  are  ignorant  of  the  charges 


42  PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND. 

against  them,  but  presume  in  every  case  that  it  is  from 
suspicion  of  "Union  sentiments." 

A  few  voted  the  Union  ticket ;  but  many  know  no- 
thing of  the  political  causes  of  the  war.  Nearly  all  are 
entirely  destitute  of  money,  and  a  few  so  utterly  dead 
to  shame  that  no  employment  is  too  repulsive  or 
degrading  for  them.  Instances  have  been  known 
where  they  would  beg  permission  to  hunt  vermin  upon 
a  soldier's  shirt  for  a  pittance  of  money  wherewith  to 
buy  bread. 

A  permanent  commission  was  appointed  by  the  Con- 
federate government,  to  whom  were  referred  all  cases 
of  men  "under  suspicion."  Yet  day  after  day  passed, 
and  they  still  lay  in  prison,  without  trial  and  without 
knowledge  of  the  charges  against  them.  By  the  mer- 
ciful ordination  of  Providence,  the  commissioner  was 
removed  by  death,  and  the  Confederate  government 
appointed  a  man  who  has  shown  that  regard  for 
humanity  which,  when  blended  with  justice,  con- 
stitutes the  purely  upright  judicial. 

At  the  present  time  (February  1,  1862)  few  Union 
prisoners  remain  in  the  Eichmond  warehouses.  When 
brought  to  trial,  few  refused  to  take  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance, and  on  taking  the  oath  they  were  sent  to 
their  homes, — perhaps  to  find  them  in  desolation  and 
ruins. 

Through  all  time  will  the  foul  stigma  of  inhumanity 
cling  to  this  great  rebellion,  when  the  sad  history  of 
the  Union  prisoners  is  told  by  the  future  historian. 

Union  prisoners  of  a  different  character  and  stand- 
ing are  occasionally  incarcerated  in  the  prison-ware- 
house occupied  by  the  officers,  but  generally  for  a  very 
short  period,  as  the  association  would  yield  pleasure 


OUR   PEISON.  43 

to  Unionists,  and  welcome  intelligence  would  be  given 
to  the  prisoners. 

During  the  early  part  of  January,  a  wealthy  and  in- 
fluential citizen  of  Eichmond  became  an  inmate  of  the 
officers'  room  for  a  few  hours.  His  name  will  not  be 
given,  as  he  is  still  a  resident  of  Richmond,  and  we 
do  not  wish  to  compromise  his  interests,  and  perhaps 
injure  the  cause  he  so  nobly  yet  discreetly  represents 
amidst  the  rebellious  herd  around  him. 

He  is  a  relative  of  a  distinguished  physician  of 
Philadelphia,  and  has  been  from  the  commencement  of 
our  political  troubles  a  staunch  Union  man. 

During  his  temporary  absence  from  Eichmond,  his 
son,  against  the  father's  express  desire  and  command, 
accepted  a  commission  in  the  Confederate  army,  and 
previous  to  his  confinement  among  us  the  father  had 
been  visiting  his  son  at  Manassas.  Whilst  there,  the 
usual  holidays  of  the  season  opened,  and  he  had  sub- 
scribed liberally  in  behalf  of  his  son  to  an  entertain- 
ment given  by  the  officers  to  commemorate  the  auspi- 
cious opening  of  the  new  year. 

Whilst  at  the  social  board,  unconscious  of  the  evil 
gathering  around  him,  he  was  placed  under  arrest,  and 
conveyed  to  Eichmond,  where  we  had  the  pleasure  of 
greeting  him,  openly  and  without  danger  to  his  person, 
at  our  rough  yet  social  mess-table.  The  few  hours  he 
passed  in  our  midst  impressed  us  with  the  earnest 
sincerity  of  his  Union  sentiments,  whilst  the  courteous 
and  refined  urbanity  of  his  manners  rendered  his  society 
pleasing  and  grateful  during  our  hours  of  seclusion 
from  the  "  outer  world." 

His  early  removal  from  the  warehouse  caused  gene- 
ral regret.  During  his  brief  stay,  he  informed  us 


44  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

that  whilst  at  Manassas  he  was  convinced  that  treach- 
ery was  rife  in  high  quarters  of  the  United  States 
Army, — that  daily  information  passed  from  the  Federal 
lines  to  those  of  the  Confederates  at  Manassas.  So 
convinced  was  he  of  this  fact,  and  so  thoroughly  had 
he  identified  persons  concerned  in  this  treacherous 
villany,  that  measures  were  at  once  taken  by  a  promi- 
nent officer  among  us  to  furnish  the  United  States 
government  with  the  information,  which  was  done 
within  ten  days  from  the  date  of  the  Unionist's  arrival 
in  the  warehouse. 

He  assured  us  of  the  Immense  amount  of  dissatisfac- 
tion in  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Confederate  Army; 
that,  were  it  in  their  power,  two-thirds  of  the  Eebel 
army  would  go  home :  that  they  would  do  so  upon  the 
expiration  of  the  twelve  months'  service,  he  had  not 
the  slightest  doubt. 

These  facts,  with  many  others  relative  to  the  Union 
sentiment  in  Richmond,  were  gladly  received  by  us; 
for  we  had  almost  desponded  of  ever  catching  a  ray  of 
hope  through  the  bars. 

Our  friend  had  no  fears  of  a  lengthy  confinement,  as 
he  had  many  influential  friends,  among  whom  might 
be  classed  a  few  of  the  bitterest  Rebels  of  Richmond. 
He  anticipated  being  released  in  the  morning;  yet  his 
hopes  were  realized  sooner  than  he  had  expected,  al- 
though in  a  ludicrous  and  singular  manner. 

At  twilight  of  the  day  he  arrived,  a  private  carriage 
was  observed  to  stop  at  the  prison-door.  A  lady  of 
fashionable  and  refined  appearance  alighted,  approached 
the  sentinel,  and  demanded  imperatively  to  see  our 
Union  friend.  The  sentinel  refused  her  admittance. 
The  lady  insisted  in  a  louder  tone,  and  a  little  crowd 


OUR   PRISON.  45 

gathered  round  the  door,  whilst  the  prisoners  collected 
at  the  windows  at  the  unusual  sight. 

Louder  and  louder  grew  the  lady's  voice,  sterner 
the  sentinel's,  until  the  commandant  of  the  post 
appeared. 

He  was  immediately  accosted  by  the  lady,  who  de- 
manded admission,  at  the  same  time  informing  him 
that  "  she  was  as  good  a  Rebel  as  any  in  the  States." 

Upon  his  refusal,  she  again  approached  the  sentinel, 
and  persisted  in  passing.  Our  worthy  jailer,  taking 
her  by  the  arm,  led  her  to  the  carriage,  at  the  same 
time  speaking  a  few  words  in  a  low  tone.  She  entered, 
and,  in  an  excited  voice,  ordered  the  negro  to  drive 
home. 

Turning  to  the  sentinel,  the  commandant  sternly 
ordered  him  to  bayonet  any  who  approached,  without 
authority,  within  three  feet  of  the  door,  without  regard 
to  sex,  age,  or  position,  concluding  with  the  words, 
"  Remember,  I  order  you."  He  then  quickly  paced  the 
pavement  to  and  fro  for  some  time,  in  deep  thought. 
Finally  he  entered  the  building,  and  inquired  for  our 
Union  friend,  who  passed  into  the  office  with  him.  In 
a  few  moments  he  returned  for  his  carpet-bag,  ignorant 
of  his  destination,  yet  surmising  that  he  would  be 
paroled. 

We  have  not  seen  him  since  that  moment;  yet  many 
of  us  judge  him  to  be  another  political  inmate  of 
Richmond  jail. 

The  prisoners  are  guarded  according  to  the  following 
regulations,  copied  from  those  posted  on  the  walls  of 
the  prison-office : — 

1st.  The  roll-call  of  prisoners  will  commence  at 


46  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

seven  o'clock  A.M.,  and  the  officer  of  the  day  will 
superintend  the  roll-call  in  person. 

2d.  Either  the  officer  of  the  day,  or  of  the  guard, 
must  be  at  the  guard-room  at  all  hours ;  and  the  guards 
off  post  are  required  to  remain  always  at  their  quarters, 
ready  for  service. 

3d.  Prisoners  have  not  permission,  nor  will  they  be 
allowed,  to  pass  from  floor  to  floor,  or  house  to  house, 
or  be  absent  from  the  building  to  which  they  are 
assigned,  except  with  the  permission  of  the  command- 
ing officer,  or  officer  of  the  day. 

4th.  No  prisoner,  whatever  be  his  rank,  will  be 
allowed  to  leave  the  prison  to  which  he  is  assigned, 
under  any  pretext  whatever,  without  permission  of  the 
commanding  officer;  nor  shall  any  prisoner  be  fired  at 
by  a  sentinel  or  other  person,  except  in  case  of  revolt 
or  attempted  escape.* 

5th.  The  guard,  whether  on  post  or  otherwise,  will 
have  no  conversation  with  citizens  or  prisoners,  nor 
will  they  permit  it  between  citizens  or  others  and 
prisoners. 

6th.  They  will  not  permit  letters,  packages,  <Sr 
parcels  of  any  kind,  to  be  sent  into  or  out  of  the 
prisons  or  hospitals,  without  permission  from  the  officer 
commanding,  the  surgeon,  the  officer  of  the  day,  or 
officer  of  the  guard. 

7th.  They  will  not,  under  any  circumstances,  pass 
persons  into  or  out  of  the  prisons,  except  by  per- 
mission of  the  officer  commanding  or  officer  of  the  day ; 
and  any  person  presenting  a  pass  or  permit  will  be 
directed  to  the  commanding  officer's  office. 

*  The  sentinels  have  killed  seven  and  wounded  three  Federal 
prisoners,  for  looking  out  of  the  windows. 


OUR   PRISON.  47 

8th.  Except  in  cases  of  special  permit,  the  interview 
between  visitors  and  prisoners  must  be  had  at  office  of 
commanding  officer. 

9th.  All  lights,  except  hospital's,  must  be  extin- 
guished at  nine  o'clock  P.M. 

10th.  All  prison-gates  to  be  closed  at  six  P.M. 

llth.  No  visitors  will  be  permitted  to  enter  the 
prison,  or  have  any  conversation  whatever  with  the 
prisoners,  except  by  special  permit  of  General  Winder. 

12th.  A  number  of  the  guard  will  be  detailed 
between  the  hours  of  ten  A.M.  and  twelve  o'clock  M., 
daily,  to  make  purchases  for  the  prisoners.  At  no 
other  time  will  they  be  permitted  to  leave  the  post. 

13th.  The  first  duty  of  the  guard,  daily,  will  be 
that  of  policing  each  floor,  and  the  entire  premises  of 
each  prison ;  and  the  officer  of  the  day  will  see  that  this 
duty  is  rigidly  performed. 

14th.  The  firing  of  a  single  gun  at  night,  or  in  the 
daytime,  will  be  the  signal  for  the  immediate  assem- 
bling, under  arms,  of  the  guard,  excepting  the  sentinels 
on  post,  and,  when  so  assembled,  the  officer- of  the  guard 
will  keep  them  at  attention  for  orders. 

15th.  The  officer  of  the  guard  is  required,  by  frequent 
inspection,  to  see  that  the  arms  of  the  guard,  particu- 
larly at  night,  are  in  condition  for  constant  use. 


48  PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND. 


CHAPTEK  III. 

A  DAY  IN  THE  OFFICERS*   PRISON. 

AT  an  early  hour  in  the  morning  we  are  aroused 
from  our  slumbers  by  the  cry  of  "  milk !  milk !"  re- 
sounding through  the  warehouse,  and  a  stampede  of 
stewards  to  the  door;  armed  with  tin  cups  and  five- 
cent  pieces,  where  they  receive  from  a  piebald  negro 
the  necessary  fluid.  This  negro  is  one  of  the  outside 
prison-associations.  Who  of  us  can  ever  forget  the 
eagerness  with  which  he  seizes  a  half-dime,  and  the 
terseness  of  manner  with  which  he  refuses  to  barter  his 
commodity  for  a  five-cent  shin-plaster,  which  is  now 
and  then  tendered  to  him?  In  a  few  moments  the 
milk-purchasers  are  joined  by  a  more  eager,  yet  thirsty 
crowd,  who  seek  to  cull  from  the  morning  papers  balm 
for  the  past,  hope  for  the  future.  A  few  heads  may  now 
be  seen  peering  out  from  cotton  comfortables  and  over- 
coats, and  husky  voices  heard  exclaiming,  "I  say, 
Wabash!  any  news  about  exchange?"  The  magic 
word  "exchange"  operates  like  a  morning  bath,  re- 
freshing and  reviving ;  for  the  dullard  of  sleep  becomes 
at  once  an  animate  and  expectant  soul.  Slowly  the 
scene  becomes  imbued  with  life.  Indiana  robes  herself; 
Wisconsin,  half  recumbent,  gazes  dreamily  around; 
Ohio  arises,  drawing  around  her  the  only  robe  de 
chambre  in  the  building ;  whilst  California  awakes  from 
golden  dreams,  donning  her  shabby  habiliments  of 


A   DAY   IN   THE   OFFICERS'    PRISON.  49 

woe.  The  scene  is  full  of  life  and  animation,  as  each 
representative  appears  upon  the  floor,  wending  his  way, 
soap  in  hand,  towel  over  shoulder,  to  the  wash-closet. 
Our  ablution  ended,  an  early  morning  walk,  as  an 
appetizer,  commences.  Up  and  down,  to  and  fro,  at 
quick  time,  we  march,  avoiding  tenderly  the  soil  of  a 
portion  of  Pennsylvania  and  Massachusetts,  who  lie,  as 
usual,  in  a  dormant  state.  In  a  few  moments  the 
steward's  cry  of  "bread!"  warns  us  that  our  breakfast 
is  nearly  prepared;  the  quickly  succeeding  cry  of 
"meat!"  gathers  us  around  our  respective  mess-tables. 
In  those  two  monosyllabic  cries  is  comprised  the  bill  of 
fare  for  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper;  though  many 
messes  who  possess  funds  and  can  afford  the  dignity  of 
a  treasurer  indulge  in  luxuries,  such  as  coffee,  sugar, 
molasses,  milk,  and  potatoes.  .The  writer's  mess  can 
only  occasionally  luxuriate  in  a  pint  of  molasses  and  a 
quarter  of  a  peck  of  potatoes.  "  Poverty  hath  its  con- 
tentment, of  which  riches  knoweth  not," — (TuppER,  we 
believe,) — yet  surely  the  poet  never  imagined  poverty 
and  a  prisoner  of  war  in  companionship. 

As  we  gather  around  our  mess-tables,  many  are  the 
remarks  made  of  home  and  friends.  How  earnestly 
we  wish  such  and  such  loved  ones  could  look  upon 
our  board,  could  partake  with  us  this  simple  meal! 
Breakfast  over,  some  lounge  on  the  promenade,  others 
resort  to  letter-writing.  A  few  diligent  officers  have 
already  abstracted  the  news,  and,  among  other  subjects, 
are  discussing  the  pros  and  cons  of  a  speedy  exchange ; 
and  if  a  thoughtless  editor  should  unfortunately  have 
inserted  in  his  paper  a  news-item  about  exchange,  he 
at  once  inflicts  upon  our  "  Confederacy"  both  delight 
and  torture, — delight  at  seeing  the  word  "  exchange" 


50  PKISON-LIFE   AT   KICHMOND. 

in  print,  and  torture  at  the  indefinite  nature  of  the 
item. 

Standing  at  the  north  end  of  the  room  and  looking 
south,  we  photograph  the  following  picture.  On  the 
right,  within  teaching-distance,  sit,  silently  engrossed 
in  cards,  a  captain  from  Pennsylvania,  and  four  lieu- 
tenants, respectively  from  Maine,  Wisconsin,  Massa- 
chusetts, and  Ohio.  Farther  on,  two  army-chaplains 
are  quietly  discussing  the  past,  present,  and  future 
religious  condition  of  the  world  in  general,  and,  for 
aught  we  know,  their  own  present  unfortunate  con- 
dition in  particular.  A  few  steps  more  to  the  right, 
and  we  find  Lieutenant  Peacock,  of  the  steamer  Fanny, 
captured  by  the  Confederates  at  "  Chicamacomico." 
He  is  surrounded  by  a  colonel,  a  quartermaster,  and  a 
doctor,  whose  attention  he  is  engrossing  by  an  ani- 
mated account  of  the  Fanny's  surprise  and  capture. 
His  description  is  graphic,  and  occasionally  illumined 
with  touches  of  humor  that  convulse  his  audience. 

Looking  straight  before  us,  we  see  Congressman  Ely 
bending  over  his  "mess- table,"  seemingly  buried  in  the 
mass  of  documents  around  him.  Every  day,  for  hours, 
he  is  occupied  with  his  pen,  assisted  by  young  Hale,  of 
the  Navy,  (nephew  to  Gideon  Welles,  Secretary  of  the 
Navy,)  who  has  volunteered  as  his  secretary.  Near 
Mr.  Ely,  a  lieutenant  sits  on  a  bench,  busily  engaged 
in  patching  a  pair  of  seedy  pantaloons,  whilst  another 
is  observed  acting  as  housemaid,  washing  dishes,  and 
sweeping  the  floor  around  his  mess-table. 

On  the  left  may  be  seen  the  fine,  manly  form  and 
handsome  face  of  Colonel  Cogswell,  of  the  United 
States  Regular  Army,  who  is  pacing  to  and  fro  in 
deep  study.  Upon  him  devolved  the  command  after 


A   DAY   IN   THE   OFFICERS'    PRISON.  51 

General  Baker's  death  at  the  battle  of  Ball's  Bluff. 
He  is  reserved,  but  possessed  of  many  qualities  that 
command  respect  and  esteem  from  his  prison-associates. 

At  the  lower  end  of  the  room,  we  see  the  slight  but 
agile  figure  of  Colonel  Lee,  of  the  20th  Massachusetts 
Eegiment,  (taken  at  Ball's  Bluff,)  who  is  earnestly 
engaged  in  conversation  with  two  visitors,  one  of  whom 
is  the  Episcopal  Bishop  of  Virginia,  the  other  a  divine 
of  note  from  the  same  State.  Colonel  Lee  has  a 
warmth  and  an  earnestness  of  manner  which  endear 
him  not  only  to  his  brother-officers,  but  interest  all 
who  come  within  the  sound  of  his  genial  voice.  He  is 
beloved  by  the  junior  officers  of  his  command, — four  of 
whom  are  prisoners  here,  having  preferred  to  share  his 
fate  rather  than  desert  him  when  the  hard-fought  field 
was  lost. 

Pages  could  be  occupied  in  describing  the  varied 
characters  within  the  room.  Each  have  their  distinct- 
ive grades  in  our  social  circle,  yet  none  have  caused  a 
jar  or  created  a  discord  in  the  good  fellowship  of  our 
community. 

Occasionally  letters  arrive  from  home;  and  then  the 
excitement  is  almost  painful  to  witness.  The  "  Penny 
Post"  is  surrounded  by  an  eager  crowd,  jostling  shoul- 
ders for  even  a  glimpse  of  the  letters.  Name  after  name 
is  called,  repeated,  and  re-echoed  through  the  room,  and 
the  fortunate  receiver  is  looked  upon  as  a  Croesus. 
The  last  name  is  called,  and  sober,  disappointed  faces 
gaze  wistfully  into  each  other.  Often,  as  the  letter- 
carrier  is  leaving  the  room,  an  earnest,  anxious  voice 
may  be  heard,  "Are  you  sure  there  is  none  for  me?" 
"  None  for  you,  sir,"  is  the  reply;  and  the  sad  inquirer 
moves  away,  feeling  that  there  is  but  one  link  left 


52  PKISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

between  him  and  home, — the  consolation  of  affection  in 
his  own  strong  heart.  Those  who  receive  letters  are 
surrounded  by  the  disappointed,  who  gladly  absorb 
news  from  the  North  through  any  channel  that  re- 
minds them  of  their  own  firesides. 

It  is  one  o'clock,  and  dinner-hour.  As  we  draw  near 
our  "mess-table,"  we  find  that  a  jovial  wag  has  pasted 
on  the  wall  the  following  bill  of  fare : — 

HOTEL  DE  YANKEE. 


BREAKFAST. 
Fried  Liver,  "with  crnmbs." 
Liver  Fried. 

Coffee, — when  purchased  by  boarders. 
Tea,— 
Bread. 
Black  Bread. 
Water-Soakers. 
Dry  Toast  "  over  gas-light." 

DINNER. 
Boiled  Beef. 

Beef  Boiled,  "  Secesh  a  la  mode." 
Hoe-Cake,  made  with  boarder's  meal. 
Roast  Beef, — if  you  can  beg  any  from  outsiders. 
Tomatoes  and  Potatoes, — if  you  purchase  them. 
White  Bread. 
Stale      " 
Annual  Pudding, — "  only  made  once  a  year." 

SUPPER. 

Codfish  Fried, — if  bought  and  sent  to  cook. 
Cold  Boiled  Beef. 

Boiled  Beef,  turned  over  seven  or  eight  times. 
Cold  Coffee,  warmed  over. 
Bread, 


Gentlemen  will  find  this  a  first-class  hotel;  and  it  is 
kept  on  a  Southern  plan.    The  beds  are  well  aired, — if 


A  DAY   IN  THE   OFFICERS'   PRISON.  53 

taken  care  of  by  the  boarder  himself.  All  extra  meals 
can  be  sent  to  the  boarder's  room, — if  purchased  by  him 
outside  of  the  hotel.  The  proprietor  earnestly  requests 
that  no  money  be  given  to  servants,  as  he  pays  and 
clothes  them  liberally  for  their  services. 

JEFFERSON  DAVIS,  Proprietor. 

This  bill  of  fare  comprises  the  entire  delicacies  of 
our  hotel.  But  a  more  practical  illustration  of  our  daily 
diet  is  as  follows,  viz.  (the  messes  being  numbered 
according  to  amount  of  funds  in  treasury  :)  Mess  No.  1, 
bread,  beef,  and  water ;  No.  2,  bread,  beef,  and  pint 
bottle  of  molasses;  No.  3,  bread,  beef,  and  butter; 
No.  4,  bread,  beef,  butter,  and  molasses ;  No.  5,  bread, 
beef,  butter,  coffee,  and  potatoes ;  Nos.  6  to  10  inclu- 
sive, bread,  beef,  butter,  coffee,  molasses,  and  potatoes. 
Simple  as  this  fare  is,  wanting  delicacies  and  condi- 
ments, we  have  become  thorough  epicures,  and  chal- 
lenge Anacreon  from  his  shades  by  the  delicate  skill 
with  which  we  discuss  the  tender  qualities  of  sirloins, 
ribs,  chucks,  and  shins  of  beef  daily  set  before  us ;  and 
we  assure  our  friends  who  imagine  that  living  skeletons 
are  the  inhabitants  of  the  officers'  prison  in  Richmond, 
that  as  each  hour  passes  its  sluggish  length  away,  so 
grows  our  substance,  if  not  our  strength. 

The  officers  taken  at  Ball's  Bluff  are  all  getting  fat : 
yet  it  is -not  upon  the  goodly  things  of  "  Secessia,"  but 
rather  from  the  rich  storehouse  of  vivacious  and 
buoyant  spirits.  Dinner  over,  the  promenade  is  again 
the  resort  of  many.  The  promenade  is  twenty  feet 
long  by  six  feet  in  width;  yet,  by  a  nice  system  of 
pilotage  between  mess-tables,  benches,  and  beds,  a  few 
of  us  can  manage  to  prolong  our  walk  around  the 


54:  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

entire  room.  Whist,  reading,  writing,  and  conversa- 
tion occupy  the  afternoon.  Supper  is  generally  accom- 
plished as  per  "bill  of  fare." 

*  When  evening  comes,  every  eye  seems  to  brighten 
and  every  heart  to  gladden  with  social  familiarity  and 
jovial  converse.  Over  in  that  corner  a  cluster  of 
young  officers  are  culling  scenes  of  college-life  from 
the  garner-house  of  memory.  How  their  hearty  roars 
of  laughter  make  the  old  prison  echo,  until  the  bare 
walls  appear  to  freshen  with  the  sound  and  look  less 
grim !  Old  walls,  ye  have  held  no  warmer  hearts  than 
these.  Desolate  and  sad  are  ye  to  look  upon ;  yet  ere 
long  ye  will  be  one  of  the  links  to  chain  the  past  to 
our  memories. 

Around  the  stove  are  gathered  a  knot  of  officers, 
who  are  sketching  grim  incidents  of  war,  narrow 
escapes,  cunning  escapades,  precipitate  retreats,  and 
heroic  charges.  The  scenes  are  laid  amidst  the 
mountain-ranges  of  Western  Virginia,  the  bluffs  and 
plains  of  the  Upper  Potomac,  the  rolling  hills  of  Cen- 
treville,  and  the  blood-ploughed  fields  of  Manassas. 
On  the  latter  many  of  the  officers  were  wounded. 
A  few  of  them  lay  upon  the  field  for  forty-eight  hours, 
without  food,  water,  or  blanket, — with  bleeding  limbs, 
and  mangled  and  dying  companions  around  them,  whose 
cries  of  agony  come  moaning  to-night  around  their 
hearts,  and  whose  death-struggles  are  vivid  in  every 
flash  of  thought  to  that  fatal  field.  How  deep  the  in- 
terest shown  in  these  sad  details !  how  closely  that  little 
crowd  draw  around  the  earnest  speaker !  With  glisten- 
ing eye  and  mellowed  heart,  they  absorb  the  sadness  of 
his  own,  as  he  sketches,  with  painful  experience,  the 
harrowing  scenes  of  the  battle-field  when  the  struggle 


A   DAY   IN  THE  OFFICERS'   PRISON.  55 

is  over.  Yet  as  the  same  officer,  in  glowing  language, 
depicts  the  wild  charge,  the  rattle  of  musketry, 
the  echoing  thunder-boom  of  artillery,  the  rout,  the 
capture,  and  the  victory,  see  how  every  eye  burns  and 
flashes,  every  feature  starts  into  life,  and  every  voice 
commingles  in  the  wild  enthusiasm ! 

The  old  room  resounds,  during  the  evening,  with  the 
chorus  of  the  prison-song  : — 

"  Roll  on,  roll  on,  sweet  moments,  roll  on, 
And  let  the  poor  prisoner  go  home,  go  home !" 

Sixty  voices  blend  in  the  rolling  notes,  with  an 
earnest,  hearty  will  that  causes  the  shivering  sentry  to 
start,  shrieking  out,  "Corporal  of  the  guard!"  The 
passer-by  stops  and  peeps  through  the  bars,  the  negro 
cooks  cluster  around  the  outer  door,  and  the  young 
officer  of  the  day  looks  in,  at  a  loss  how  to  act.  Indif- 
ferent to  all,  the  chorus  swells,  until  every  nook  and 
corner  of  the  old  warehouse  is  filled  with  the  melody. 
We  have  many  fine  voices  among  us,  and  during  the 
evening  may  be  heard  songs  of  sentiment,  patriotism, 
and  humor,  wild  glees  of  college  and  bivouac  life, 
"Benny  Havens  0  !" — the  resort  and  reminiscence  of 
West-Pointers ;  and,  as  the  evening  closes,  we  often 
raise  the  sweet,  plaintive  notes  of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home," 
in  which  every  heart,  if  not  voice,  mingles, — it  may  be 
sadly,  yet  with  tender  earnestness. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  officer  of  the  day  looks  in,  and 
commands,  "Lights  out!"  Cots  are  put  in  position  for 
the  night,  books  are  closed,  ink-bottles,  pen,  and  paper 
placed  in  our  general  reservoir, — the  window-sill, — the 
lights  are  turned  down,  groups  gather  closer  together, 
in  an  under-tone  stories  are  told  and  impromptu  enig- 
mas and  conundrums  given,  and  the  little  band  does 


56  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

not  disperse  for  an  hour  or  two.    Gradually  all  becomes 
quiet. 

It  is  a  strange  and  solemn  sight,  to  look  around  the 
room  where  sixty  human  beings  are  sleeping  within  a 
prison's  walls.  The  dense — almost  stifling — silence  awes 
the  senses.  Could  we  but  gather  the  dreams  of  all,  what 
a  volume  would  be  unfolded  of  agony,  love,  hope,  and 
despair !  Solemn  and  silent  the  night  passes  on, — un- 
varied except  by  the  rough  tramp  or  hoarse  challenge 
of  the  sentinel  at  the  outer  door. 


A  DAY   IN   THE  PRIVATES'    PRISON.  57 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  DAY  IN  THE   PRIVATES'   PRISON. 
(From,  the  Diary  of  Sergeant  A.  P.  SCHUBTZ,  Col.  Baker's  Cal.  Reg.) 

November  10,  1861. — Having  no  bed  but  the  hard 
floor,  and  no  covering  but  our  wearing-apparel,  the 
cold  air  this  morning  was  all-sufficient  to  arouse  us 
early  and  cause  an  extra  promenade  of  the  floor  to 
warm  up  the  blood.  Taking  an  early  start,  I  deemed 
it  possible  to  get  down  to  the  yard  and  wash  before 
roll-call,  and  had  so  far  succeeded  as  to  be  within  two 
of  getting  out.  At  this  critical  moment  (to  me)  the 
Rebel  officers  came  in,  and,  in  no  very  respectful  man- 
ner, ordered  all  hands  up-stairs.  Nothing  but  an  unrea- 
soning obedience  is  permitted  with  these  gentlemen, 
and,  with  any  thing  but  pleasant  feelings,  I  returned. 

This  diurnal  duty  of  roll-call  being  accomplished, 
another  rush  was  made  for  the  steps,  and,  although 
going  at  "  double-quick,"  I  came  in  line  some  twenty- 
five  to  the  rear.  Only  two  being  allowed  out  at  a  time, 
and  they  staying  as  long  as  possible,  nearly  an  hour 
had  elapsed  ere  I  had  completed  my  morning  ablu- 
tions. The  authorities  here  not  being  remarkable  for 
their  sagacity,  or  else  being  careless  of  any  convenience 
afforded,  seem  to  think  one  pump  sufficient  for  the  uses 
of  five  hundred  men.  We  endure  it,  but  not  good- 
humoredly. 

After  our  wash,  instead  of  having  nice  linen  towels, 


58  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

we  appropriate  our  coat-tails  ancf  shirt-sleeves, — which  I 
judge  improved  but  little  our  appearance  in  the  way  of 
cleanliness. 

By  this  time  it  was  eight  A.  M.,  and  our  room  was  all 
astir.  It  were  folly  for  us  to  think  of  a  meal  we  once 
knew  by  the  name  of  breakfast,  for  it  seemed  as  though 
the  fast  would  never  break;  and  the  next  important 
question  that  presented  itself  was,  how  to  pass  the  time. 

In  one  corner  of  the  room,  a  member  of  Colonel  Baker's 
California  Eegiment  had  a  morning  paper,  and  crowded 
around  him  were  perhaps  fifty,  endeavoring  to  hear  the 
news.  I  certainly  was  among  the  number,  and  dis- 
covered that  the  destination  of  the  "  Yankee  fleet"  and 
abuse  of  the  "  Hessians"  generally  constituted  the  burden 
of  the  song  chimed  by  the  "  Eichmojid  Dispatch."  The 
news  being  devoured,  and  the  prospects  of  being  set  to 
work  on  Eebel  intrenchments,  or  of  being  hung,  having 
received  a  full  discussion  by  groups  assembled  here  and 
there,  an  hour  was  spent  in  dreamy  idleness,  when  sud- 
denly a  cry  of  "  Bread  on  the  first  floor!"  rang  through 
the  room.  Delightful  intelligence  to  men  who  had  eaten 
nothing  for  sixteen  and  a  half  hours,  and  then  only 
half  as  much  as  they  wanted !  In  a  few  minutes  the 
bread  arrived  upon  the  floor,  and,  being  divided  into 
our  respective  squads,  the  half-loaf — weighing  perhaps 
five  ounces — was  distributed  to  each. 

The  avidity  with  which  each  man  gnawed  his  crust 
was  ample  evidence  of  his  hunger.  But  a  few  moments 
elapsed  before  we  received  our  allowance  of  boiled 
beef  without  salt ;  yet  the  bread  by  this  time,  in  many 
cases,  was  all  devoured.  Breakfast  being  over,  a  sport- 
ing crowd,  composed  of  members  of  the  1st  Califor- 
nia, 15th  and  20th  Massachusetts,  seated  themselves 


A   DAY    IN   THE   PRIVATES'    PRISON.  59 

on  our  only  chair  (the  floor)  and  engaged  in  an  exciting 
game  of  "  penny  poker;"  others  pitched  pennies,  played 
euchre,  draughts,  &c.  But  the  main  portion  would  for 
a  while  gaze  out  on  the  capital  of  Kebeldom,  and  then, 
taking  the  floor  for  a  stool,  sit  like  "  Patience  on  a 
monument,  smiling  at  grief."  In  retired  spots  could  be 
seen  the  more  thoughtful,  perusing  with  manifest  de- 
light a  Bible  or  Testament,  rendered  doubly  sacred  by 
being  the  last  token  of  the  affection  of  a  doting  parent 
or  loving  sister. 

Looking  upon  these  scenes,  in  such  a  situation,  the 
feelings  that  fill  a  man's  bosom  are  indescribable.  It 
is  here  that  we  feel  the  loss  of  home  comforts,  our 
jovial  associates,  and  all  we  once  held  dear;  but  "  Hope 
is  our  sheet-anchor,"  and  buoys  up  the  unconquerable 
American's  spirit. 

From  twelve  M.  to  four  P.M.  another  important  duty 
must  be  performed,  and,  as  all  hands  are  deeply  interested, 
we  participate  with  a  lively  interest.  Our  combined 
effort  is,  therefore,  a  war  of  extermination  on  "  the  de- 
fenceless" vermin,  which  have  become  so  numerous  and 
extremely  annoying  that  an  existence  mingled  with  any 
happiness  must  result  not  only  in  "  subjugating"  these 
pestiferous  devils,  but  completely  "  crushing  them  out." 

Our  sentinels  keep  a  vigorous  look-out  that  we  do 
not  get  our  heads  out  of  the  windows  and  thereby  get 
a  snuff  of  fresh  air ;  or,  if  we  should  happen  to  trans- 
gress thus  much  upon  God's  atmosphere  from  a  third- 
story  window,  he  waits  not 'to  warn  us,  but,  without 
any  scruples,  does  his  utmost  to  be  the  "death  of  a 
d — d  Yankee."  We  had  a  practical  illustration  of 
their  feelings  to-day,  by  being  fired  at  while  gazing 
out  of  a  closed  window.  The  bullet  missed  the 


60  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

head  of  a  comrade  by  only  a  few  inches,  and  passed 
through  the  roof.  It  is  needless  to  add  that  the  senti- 
nel was  considered  a  "  brave"  by  his  ignorant  and  brutal 
comrades. 

The  time  intervening  between  a  meal  nominally 
known  as  breakfast  and  that  of  supper,  is  about  seven 
and  a  half  hours,  which  brings  supper  (we  have  no 
dinner)  at  seven  P.M.  Besides  our  delicate  five  ounces  of 
bread,  we  are  then  favored  with  a  half-pint  of  soup, 
made  from  the  fat  extracted  from  the  boiled  beef  eaten 
in  the  morning,  with  a  slight  mixture  of  Indian  meal. 
At  the  hour  mentioned,  six  dirty  buckets  full  of  this 
delicacy  are  brought  us  by  the  darkey  prisoners  under 
guard.  The  appointed  sergeant  deals  out  each  little 
mite,  and  a  very  short  time  suffices  to  finish  our  not 
very  sumptuous  repast. 

Cards  being  scarce,  only  a  few  can  indulge  in  that 
delightful  amusement ;  and  various  are  the  means  de- 
vised for  the  evening's  entertainment.  This  evening 
we  were  treated  with  songs  both  comic  and  pathetic, 
tragic  scenes  by  those  who  had  at  some  time  figured  in 
some  capacity  on  the  stage  in  Boston,  Philadelphia,  or 
New  York,  and  ending  with  extemporaneous  speeches 
on  subjects  better  calculated  to  amuse  than  to  instruct. 
The  "  universal  Yankee"  is  undoubtedly  here,  and  he 
is  determined  to  make  prison-life  as  endurable  and 
pleasant  as  circumstances  and  the  Kebels  will  permit. 


PURSUITS  AND   PASTIMES.  61 


CHAPTER  V.  . 

PURSUITS  AND   PASTIMES. 

As  the  first  blush  of  morning  streams  through  the 
bars,  a  short,  robust  officer  may  be  seen  wending  his 
way  to*the  door.  Eeturning,  paper  in  hand,  he  sits  on 
his  cot,  and  the  first  volume  of  "  Hart  on  Exchange"  is 
opened.  As  the  morning  freshens,  and  sleepers  awake, 
voices  from  all  parts  of  the  room,  are  blended  in  the 
one  cry : — "  Say,  Wabash  !  any  news  about  exchange  ?" 
To  each  and  all  a  happy  reply  is  given,  mingled  with  hope 
and  consolation  adapted  to  each  case. 

The  subject  animates  the  room,  and  many  now  appear 
sitting  up  in  their  beds,  prepared  for  the  first  and  most 
important  duty  of  the  day.  Can  we  ever  forget  its  solemn 
and  impressive  obligations,  its  mysteries  and  its  cares,  or 
its  satisfaction,  though  of  a  melancholy  nature  ?  Long 
years  may  pass ;  the  old  warehouse  may  moulder  and 
fall  into  ruins,  the  voices  of  "  Secessia"  be  hushed  for- 
ever ;  but,  old  companions  in  prison,  can  we  ever  forget 
the  early -morning  hour  devoted  to  the  solemn  task  of 
"crumb'Vh-unting  ?  Above  us  are  two  stories,  closely 
packed  with  privates,  who,  without  washing-facilities  or 
change  of  clothing,  are  infested  with  vermin,  a  few  of 
which  we  receive  through  the  seams  of  the  plank 
ceiling. 

The  employment,  though  repulsive,  is  imperative; 
yet  the  usual  wantonness  of  humor  that  characterizes 


62  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

our  social  circle  blends  with  the  duty  hilarious  freaks 
of  fun  and  frolic. 

After  breakfast,  washing  of  clothes  is  the  order  of  the 
day.  "With  coats  off;  sleeves  rolled  up  to  the  shoulder, 
soap  in  hand,  bucket  on  bench,  many  a  poor  fellow  may 
be  seen  rubbing,  scrubbing,  grumbling,  hands  sore, 
shoulders  aching,  tugging  away  at  his  soiled  under- 
clothing. He  realizes  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  the 
domestic  importance  of  wash-day  at  home. 

Clothes  are  to  be  mended,  buttons  to  be  sewed  on ; 
and  the  busy  tailors  may  be  observed  in  every  con- 
ceivable position  throughout  the  room.  Yonder  officer 
manipulates  a  needle.  See  how  awkward  he  is  !  He 
is  sewing  a  button  on  his  coat :  now  he  has  sewn  the 
skin  of  his  thumb  to  the  cloth,  now  he  pricks  his  finger, 
now  pulls  the  thread  from  the  needle.  But — agony  on 
agony  ! — see  him  threading  that  needle.  Now  he  has 
it! — no: — try  again,  misses  it; — try  again — yes,  surely 
he  hit  it  then : — alas,  no  !  and  his  steward  comes  up 
and  threads  it  for  him.  That  young  lieutenant  on  his 
right  is  putting  a  patch  of  red  flannel  on  his  blue 
pantaloons.  Surely  he  has  invented  a  new  stitch,  for 
they  are  diagonal,  oblong,  angular,  up-and-down,  side- 
ways and  backwards ;  and  the  patch — ladies,  did  you 
ever  hear  of  such  a  thing? — is  put  on  bias  and 
octagonal!  When  he  reaches  home,  that  patch  will 
become  one  of  the  household  treasures.  How  the  old 
women  will  make  it  one  of  the  mysteries  of  a  tea- 
drinking  !  "  See,  here  is  a  patch  my  boy  Jimmie  sewed 
on  in  '  Richmond  prison/  "  his  fond  old  mother  will  say, 
holding  the  unmentionables  up  before  a  knot  of  ad- 
miring friends. 

From  old  blankets  nice  pantaloons  grow, — a  prison- 


PUESUITS   AND   PASTIMES.  63 

adage  as  infallible  as  the  school-boy's  "From  little 
acorns  great/'  &c. ;  and  the  scientific  lord  of  the  scis- 
sors and  thread  is  observed  bending  over  his  "mess"- 
table,  whereon  is  spread  a  blanket,  from  which  he  quickly 
produces  a  unique  garment  known  as  the  E.  P.  A. 
style.  In  one  day  the  cloth  is  cut,  the  body  fitted,  and 
the  garment  on.  Who  can  imagine  the  pride  felt  by 
the  wearer  as  he  paces  up  and  down  "  our  promenade"  ? 
What  cares  he  for  blockades  in  time  of  war,  for  high 
tariffs  in  time  of  peace  ?  Is  he  not  the  living  emblem  of 
the  energy  and  skill  of  home  manufacture  ?  He  would 
not  exchange  that  earnest  glow  of  pride,  as  he  beholds 
the  result  of  the  cunning  of  his  own  hand,  for  the 
wildest  enthusiasm  of  delight  that  the  petit-maitre 
feels  as  he  dons  bis  latest  Parisian  suit.  Caps,,  coats, 
pants,  vest,  ay,  and  shirts,  spring  up  under  the  ver- 
satile genius  of  the  E.  P.  A. ;  and  the  happiest  hours  of 
prison-life  are  those  spent  in  producing  some  necessary 
article  of  clothing,  or  in  carving  from  wood  or  bone  a 
fancy  trinket  to  serve  in  future  years  as  a  memento  of 
prison-association. 

As  the  day  wears  on,  whist,  backgammon,  &c.  cause 
the  hours  to  pass  pleasantly  away.  Old  friends  at  the 
whist-table,  let  me  recall  the  quiet  comfort  of  our 
friendly  sittings, — the  cosy  corner,  the  social  pipe,  the 
quaint  and  erratic  talk  of  Ives,  the  brusque  and  honest 
Vassall,  Kerns  the  free  and  generous. 

What  means  that  gathering  crowd  of  vivacious 
questioners  closing  round  our  facetious  friend  the 
sandy-haired,  robust  officer  ?  Drawing  near,  we  find 
before  us  the  text-book  of  the  prison,  "Hart  on  Ex- 
change,"— the  second  volume  opened,  from  the  erudite 
pages  of  which  are  drawn  the  source  of  all  argument 


64  PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND. 

and  social  life  within  the  walls.  "  Did  a  Confederate 
officer  alight  at  the  door?"  "What  did  he  want?" 
"What  mean  such  and  such  news-items  seen  in  the 
morning  papers  ?"  "  Will  the  United  States  govern- 
ment release  the  Hatteras  prisoners?"  "When  will 
the  Hon.  Mr.  Ely  be  sent  home?"  "Will  Faulkner 
be  exchanged  for  him?"  All  are  answered  from  that 
book, — the  walking  encyclopedia  of  exchange, — the 
Alpha  and  Omega  of  our  prison  doctrines,  hopes,  and 
fondest  expectations.  Its  pleasant  pages  are  often 
perused  during  the  day ;  and  if  our  meditations  be- 
come gloomy,  or  the  promenade  tedious,  we  resort 
for  comfort  and  support  under  affliction  to  that  great 
book,  "  Hart  on  Exchange." 

The  reading  of  the  morning  papers  forms  one  of  the 
pursuits — indeed,  pastimes — of  the  day.  From  their 
columns  we  derive  all  our  information ;  yet  we  have 
found  them  unreliable  as  mediums  of  facts,  and  anger- 
blinded  reasoners  on  the  great  questions  of  the  time. 
The  supercilious  arrogance  of  temporary  success  causes 
their  columns  to  teem  with  vaunts  and  derisive  com- 
parisons. For  the  perusal  of  our  Pennsylvania  friends 
and  soldiers,  we  transcribe  the  following  editorial  from 
the  "Eichmond  Dispatch,"  October  29,  1861  :— 


"  The  Yankee  papers  are  making  a  great  to-do  about 
an  importation  of  army-clothing  for  seventy  thousand 
men,  from  France.  It  is  the  most  magnificent  outfit  ever 
seen.  The  Yankees  will  be  as  fine  as  fiddles,  and  worth 
taking  for  their  clothes  if  not  for  their  own  stinking 
carcasses.  In  the  importation  are  two  prize  outfits  for 
the  two  best  companies  in  the  service.  One  of  these  has 


PURSUITS  AND   PASTIMES.  65 

been  awarded  to  a  Pennsylvania  company,  which  is  pro- 
nounced to  be  the  finest  company  of  the  finest  brigade 
of  the  finest  division  of  the  Grand  Army.  This 
award,  if  we  had  no  other  information,  would  satisfy 
us  as  to  the  true  character  of  that  army.  When  Penn- 
sylvanians  are  the  best,  we  know  how  to  rate  the  rest. 
There  never  has  been  any  good  fighting  by  Pennsyl- 
vanians  since  the  foundation  of  the  government;  and 
we  don't  believe  in  miracles.  In  all  wars  that  we 
have  had,  they  have  been  proverbial  for  their  awk- 
wardness, stupidity,  and  cowardice.  "We  do  not  doubt 
but  they  deserve  the  reputation,  and  will  preserve  it  to 
the  end  of  all  time." 

Imagine,  brother  Pennsylvanians,  the  feelings  of 
your  compeers  in  awkwardness,  stupidity,  and  coward- 
ice, as  they  sat  behind  the  bars  and  read  the  foregoing 
article.  Glancing  up  from  the  paper,  we  behold  a 
regiment  of  Virginia  volunteers  marching  past;  we 
hear  their  derisive  shouts,  their  fiendish  yells  of  de- 
light, their  voices  screaming,  "  You  infernal  Yankees, 
we  are  going  to  catch  more  of  you  !"  We  behold  yon 
chivalrous  officer,  at  the  head  of  his  men,  with  a  taunt- 
ing smile  on  his  lip,  and  a  gleam  of  hatred  from  his 
eye;  and  though  we  may  be  awkward,  stupid,  and 
cowardly,  yet,  thank  God,  we  are  not  brutes,  nor  do 
we  revile  the  unfortunate. 

The  following  is  clipped  from  an  article  on  President 
Lincoln^  message: — "They  [the  "Yanks"]  produce 
nothing  which  is  not  better  produced  by  others,  and 
they  only  outstrip  the  rest  of  mankind  in  knavish 
tricks  and  worthless  notions.  '  Let  them  rip.'  " 

The  refined  elegance  of  the  latter  expression  must 


66  PKISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

adapt  it  to  the  cultivated  tastes  of  Richmond  society, 
or  else  it  would  not  have  been  inserted  in  the  govern- 
ment organ.  The  truth  is,  that  Secession  appears  to 
have  let  loose  the  flood-gates  of  foul  language ;  for  the 
disgusting  editorials  on  public  questions,  and  the  filthy 
abuse  of  private  quarrels,  (often  published  in  the 
papers,)  force  us  to  believe  that  the  refined  essence  of 
the  F.  F.  V.  has  departed  forever. 

(Extract  from  the  "Richmond  Enquirer,"  Dec.  10,  1861.) 

"The  last  intelligence  that  has  reached  us  from  Fort 
Warren  represented  Mr.  Faulkner  to  be  trundling  a 
wheelbarrow  of  wood,  and  the  Yankees  very  much  de- 
lighted with  the  sight.  A  great  man  struggling  with 
adversity  is,  according  to  a  very  ancient  authority,  '  a 
spectacle  for  the  gods.'  A  gentleman  performing  the 
menial  drudgery  of  life  affords  a  spectacle  very  grate- 
ful to  the  malignant  and  envious  feelings  of  demons  in 
the  guise  of  vulgar  Yankees.  No  doubt  they  contem- 
plate a  genuine  F.  F.  V.  in  destitution  and  rags  with 
intense  delight :  it  gratifies  all  the  envy  of  gentility 
which  is  one  of  their  distinguishing  characteristics." 

Within  a  felon's  cell  of  Eichmond  prison  lies  an  old 
man,  his  crime  a  soldier's  life  and  a  soldier's  patriotism. 
A  few  months  since,  he  gladdened  a  thousand  hearts  by 
the  free  and  chivalric  bearing  of  his  daily  life, — at 
home  an  honored  and  revered  citizen,  abroad,  upon 
the  bluffs  of  the  Potomac,  a  gallant  and  heroic  soldier. 
He  lies  now  in  Eichmond  prison,  debarred  from  the 
society  of  friends  and  companions,  performing  daily  the 
"  menial  drudgeries"  of  prison-life.  His  name — Colonel 
Lee,  of  the  20th  Eegiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers. 


PURSUITS   AND   PASTIMES.  67 

The  following  are  a  few  of  the  epithets  bestowed 
upon  the  "Yankees"  by  the  papers  from  day  to  day.: — 
"  Low,  vulgar,  and  disgusting  habitudes  of  the  Yankees ;" 
"shrewd,  tricky,  knavish,  sordid,  impudent,  and  coarse ;" 
" unsafe  and  unfit  associates  for  gentlemen ;"  "Southern 
feeling  is  averse  to  every  thing  Yankee;"  "social  and 
moral  inferiority;"  "animated  by  envy,  hate,  and  re- 
vengeful resentment,  which  vulgarians  and  serfs,  unre- 
strained by  fear  of  the  lash,  instinctively  entertain  and 
indulge  in  towards  gentlemen;"  "a  Southern  gentleman 
feels  his  gentility  and  respectability  soiled  by  associa- 
tion with  the  Wilsons,  Sumners,  and  Sewards;"  "talk 
through  the  nose,  and  stink  of  onions  and  codfish;"  "no 
hope  for  a  lasting  peace  until  these  Yankee  insurrection- 
ists against  their  social  masters  are  properly  corrected 
and  taught  to  keep  their  proper  places." 

The  following  extract  from  an  edition  of  the  "Eich- 
mond  Whig,"  Saturday,  December  28,  1861,  is  pre- 
sented as  the  culminating-point  of  abuse  and  filth,  and 
especially  for  the  perusal  of  those  who  estimate  the 
Southern  character  as  the  beau-ideal  of  refinement  in 
social  life.  The  "Whig"  is  one  of  the  most  influential 
papers  in  Eichmond.  It  is  the  government  organ,  and 
its  circulation  extends  into  families  where  a  white  man 
demeaned  by  manual  labor  can  never  enter. 

"QUALITY  VERSUS  QUANTITY. 

"About  1850,  when  that  great  northeastern  deluge, 
of  which  mention  has  been  made,  swept  over  our  com- 
monwealth and  laid  waste  our  long-cherished  institu- 
tions, it  was  very  much  the  fashion  for  the  '  dear  friends 
of  the  people'  to  hold  up  the  '  Yankees'  as  the  models  of 


68  PKISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

every  virtue.  They  were  the  thriftiest,  the  shrewdest, 
the  'cutest,  the  most  enterprising,  the  most  industrious, 
and  the  most  money-getting  people  in  the  world.  But 
their  wealth,  their  stinginess,  their  venality,  their  dex- 
terity in  swindling  and  unscrupulousness  in  lying,  all 
paled  before  their  unmatchable  fecundity. 

"Behold  how  they  multiply.  They  are  as  multitu- 
dinous as  the  stars  in  the  heavens  or  the  sands  on  the 
sea-shore.  Malthus — never  a  favorite  with  the  sen- 
timentalist, though  teeming  with  the  profoundest 
wisdom — was  universally  discarded  as  a  charlatan  and 
humbug.  The  great  Yankee  nation,  which  doubled  itself 
every  five  years,  was  the  true  example  of  all  political 
science,  and  the  only  model  of  national  greatness. 
****** 

"But  they  multiply, — the  only  scriptural  precept 
they  obey, — and  boast  their  millions.  So  do  the 
Chinese ;  so  do  the  aphidse,  and  all  the  other  pests  of 
the  animal  kingdom.  Pull  the  bark  from  a  decayed  log, 
and  you  will  see  a  mass  of  maggots,  full  of  vitality,  in 
constant  motion  and  eternal  gyration,  crawling  over 
one  another,  creeping  under  one  another,  all  precisely 
alike,  all  intently  engaged  in  preying  upon  one  another ; 
and  you  have  an  apt  illustration  of  Yankee  numbers, 
Yankee  equality,  and  Yankee  prowess." 

Turning  from  this  disgusting  article,  portions  of 
which  are  too  indecent  for  these  pages,  we  perused 
with  relief  the  following  one,  feeling  assured  that 
our  barefooted  and  nearly  naked  prisoners  would  ere 
long  receive  the  benefit  of  the  increasing  industry  and 
ingenuity  of  the  Southern  ladies : — 


PURSUITS   AND    PASTIMES.  69 

"  From  a  Lady  of  Norfolk  to  President  Davis. 
"  I  send  to  President  Davis  a  pair  of  socks,  knit 
entirely  of  the  curls  taken  from  my  little  pet,  a  lap- 
dog.  I  send  them  as  a  slight  evidence  of  Southern 
independence  and  home  manufacture,  both  of  which 
every  Southern  heart  should  endeavor  to  obtain  and 
encourage.  With  every  wish  for  your  future  health 
and  happiness,  I  remain,  very  respectfully,  yours, 

"Miss  S.  C.  PANNELL." 

EDITORIAL  REMARKS. — "The  ladies  of  the  South  are 
showing  a  praiseworthy  determination  to  turn  every 
thing  to  account.  It  gives  us  pleasure  to  notice  these 
evidences  of  what  the  people  are  doing  to  thwart  the 
inconveniences  of  the  blockade." 

Often,  whilst  absorbed  in  reading  such  articles  as  the 
foregoing,  we  are  startled  by  the  cry,  "  Look  out  for 
your  beds !"  Jumping  up,  we  discover  little  puddles  of 
dirty,  tobacco-stained  water  around  the  floor,  whilst 
from  the  plank  ceilings  above  it  is  dripping  down,  re- 
gardless of  mattresses,  clean  under-clothing,  sixty-cent 
butter,  or  twenty-cent  sugar :  all  suffer  alike.  Every 
one  rushes  to  his  private  property :  gathering  it  up, 
he  runs  around,  seeking  a  protected  corner  to  shelter  it 
and  him ;  and  lucky  is  he  who  escapes  without  a  bespat- 
tered uniform,  or  face  ornamented  with  tobacco-juice. 
It  is  scrubbing-day  above,  and  the  water  soaks  through 
the  seams  of  the  floor,  which  are  filled  with  tobacco. 

One  of  the  most  important  duties  attendant  upon 
prison-life  is  the  purchase  of  articles  necessary  for  com- 
fort and  health.  For  this  purpose,  a  negro  is  placed  at 
our  disposal,  to  whom  egress  and  ingress  are  allowed 


70  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

at  all  hours  of  the  day.  An  officer,  let  it  be  supposed, 
desires  to  purchase  a  woollen  shirt,  one  pair  woollen 
drawers,  two  pair  woollen  stockings,  one  pair  cassinet 
pants, — all  of  them  of  the  same  quality  as  those  furnished 
by  the  United  States  government  to  the  privates  in  the 
army.  After  waiting  patiently  for  a  day  or  two  before  he 
can  catch  the  darkey,  he  at  last  secures  him,  places 
in  his  hands  twenty  dollars  in  gold,  with  a  memoran- 
dum of  the  articles,  and  away  the  darkey  starts. 
Next  day,  perhaps  in  the  afternoon,  he  returns  with 
the  following  bill: — One  woollen  shirt,  $4.25;  one  pair 
woollen  drawers,  $4.00;  two  pair  woollen  stockings, 
$1.50;  one  pair  cassinet  pants,  $9.00.  Total,  $18.75. 
(Cost  in  the  Federal  States,  $6.65.)  The  change— $1.25 
— is  returned  to  the  officer  in  the  following  notes,  many 
of  them  faded  and  torn : — One  bill  Corporation  of  Eich- 
mond,  50  cents;  one  bill  Corporation  of  Petersburg,  25 
cents;  one  bill  Farmers'  and  Savings  Bank,  10  cents;  one 
bill  Corporation  of  Winchester,  10  cents ;  one  bill  Cor- 
poration of  Frederick,  5  cents;  one  bill  Confederate 
House,  (tavern-bill,  private  issue,)  10  cents;  two  bills 
Southern  Exchange,  (private  issue,)  15  cents.  Total, 
eight  notes,  $1.25. 

This  is  a  matter  of  daily  occurrence;  and,  as  a  new- 
comer among  us  receives  a  roll  of  bills  too  extensive 
for  his  pocket-book,  it  is  amusing  to  see  his  stare  of 
wonder  and  surprise.  Slowly  he  unfolds  the  roll, 
smooths  them  out  and  scans  them  one  by  one, — looks 
at  the  darkey,  then  at  the  nearest  prisoner,  who  perhaps 
comes  to  his  rescue,  informing  him  that  it  is  good 
"Secesh"  money, — that  four  of  those  notes  will  buy  him 
a  pound  of  sugar,  or  ten  of  them  will  purchase  a  quire 
of  tolerably  good  writing-paper. 


PURSUITS  AND    PASTIMES.  71 

When  the  darkey  makes  his  appearance  in  a  store, 
he  is  immediately  recognized  as  the  agent  of  the  Yankee 
prisoners:  the  tariff  goes  up,  and  gold  is  expected  in 
payment  for  his  purchases.  Distressed  as  are  the  resi- 
dents of  Eichmond  by  speculators  and  the  blockade,  the 
poor  Yankee  suffers  still  more ;  for  the  negro  makes  his 
profit,  as  well  as  the  storekeeper.  Yet  the  Confederate 
soldier  fares  as  badly  as  the  Yankee,  according  to  the 
following  extract  from  a  Centreville  (Va.)  camp-letter 
published  in  a  Eichmond  paper : — 

"By  paying  five  prices  for  the  article,  you  obtain 
any  thing  in  the  market,  from  sardines  to  stove-polish. 
Oysters  arrive  every  night,  fresh  from  the  shell, — '  only 
$1.00  per  quart;'  boots,  $25.00  per  pair,  &c." 

We  are  assured  that  all  the  specie  circulating  in 
Eichmond  is  distributed  by  the  Yankee  prisoners.  It 
commands  fifty  per  cent,  premium.  Of  course  we  re- 
ceive none  when  our  purchases  are  made. 

The  inconvenience  of  the  rubbish  called  "  currency" 
is  thus  ludicrously  illustrated  by  the  Norfolk  corre- 
spondent of  the  Eichmond  Dispatch  "Bohemian,"  cap- 
tured at  Eoanoke : — 

"DO  YOU  CALL  THIS  MONEY? 

"  Leaning  over  the  counter,  a  volunteer  was  endeavor- 
ing to  reckon  the  change  just  paid  out  by  the  sleek- 
haired  clerk.  Before  him  lay  a  quantity  of  mutilated 
bills,  ragged  and  dirty  pieces  of  paper,  bits  of  card- 
board, printed  checks,  a  few  copper  pennies,  milk- 
tickets,  postage-stamps,  and  other  interesting  speci- 
mens of  the  present  outrageous  '  coin  of  the  realm.' 
Over  and  over  again  the  puzzled  volunteer  essayed  to 
count  the  pile  of  outrageous  currency,  and  over  and 


72  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

over  again  he  failed  to  find  it  satisfactory.  It  was  too 
much  for  his  rustic  arithmetic ;  the  problem  was  too 
much  to  solve  upon  only  ten  fingers.  The  bystanders 
laughed.  The  money  was  spread  out  upon  a  show- 
case, as  young  ladies  lay  cards  upon  a  table  in  tell- 
ing fortunes,  and  the  soldier  stood  before  it,  search- 
ingly  examining  every  piece.  '  Do  you  call  this  money  ?' 
he  asked,  taking  up  a  small  yellow  parallelogram  look- 
ing very  like  the  brass  card  on  the  top  of  a  sardine-box ; 
'  Do  you  call  this  money  ?'  (holding  up  an  advertise- 
ment of  fine  Havana  cigars;)  'and  this?'  (a  bill  for 
fifteen  cents,  in  which  some  weak-minded  printer  had 
gone  raving  mad  in  different  kinds  of  type.)  '  Good  for 
one  shave/  (reading  slowly ;)  'Dick  the  barber.'  'Do 
you .  call  this  money  ?'  The  sleek-haired  clerk  was 
puzzled  also.  'It  will  pass  all  over  town:  indeed  it 
will,  sir.'  Once  more  the  soldier  scrutinized  the  ragged 
and  incongruous  pile,  and,  grasping  it  in  one  hand,  soli- 
loquized, 'So  this  is  money? — money,  eh?  I  call  it 
stuff!  Why,  a  man  might  hold  his  hand  full,  and  then 
have  but  thirty-seven  and  a  half  cents  money!' " 

Occasionally  we  call  a  meeting  of  the  Association 
to  while  away  the  time  in  discussion  and  frolicsome 
speeches  from  the  members. 

Previous  to  the  arrival  within  the  precincts  of  Se- 
cessia  of  the  officers  captured  at  Ball's  Bluff,  a  cere- 
mony of  unusual  importance  and  solemn  detail  was 
performed  by  the  Association, — the  presentation  of  a 
sword  and  sash  to  one  of  its  most  distinguished  civi- 
lian members,  as  a  token  of  their  lofty  esteem  and  un- 
qualified laudation  of  his  high  courage  and  unparalleled 
strategic  movements  on  the  bloody  field  of  Manassas. 


PURSUITS  AND   PASTIMES.  73 

"With  due  decorum,  and  in  silence,  the  Association 
organized.  Men  were  there  whose  spurs  had  been 
won  amid  the  rolling  hills  of  Centreville,  the  gorges 
of  Western  Virginia,  and  upon  the  bluffs  of  the  Poto- 
mac,— to  whom  the  strife  of  war  was  familiar  as  a  nur- 
sery-tale, whose  scarred  features  bore  the  marks  of 
Southern  blades,  and  whose  stalwart  hearts  still  thirsted 
for  the  fierce  encounter, — gentlemen,  soldiers,  and  vete- 
rans, who  met  to  render  homage  to  military  talent,  as 
displayed  by  the  heroic  and  distinguished  civilian,  the 
honored  guest  of  the  evening. 

Amidst  a  deep  silence  and  attentive  expectation,  the 
chairman,  Captain  Cox  of  Ohio,  of  the  committee  to 
whom  had  been  intrusted  the  presentation  of  the  testi- 
monial, arose,  and  tendered  the  gift  in  the  following 
language : — 

"  Sir,  I  have  the  honor  of  presenting  to  you,  in  the 
name  of  the  R.  P.  A.,  these  costly  tokens  of  their  high 
appreciation  of  your  valuable  services  to  our  army 
on  the  plains  of  Manassas;  and,  sir,  I  will  take  this 
occasion  to  state  that  in  the  selection  of  myself  for 
this  purpose  the  Association  has  been  extremely  fortu- 
nate; for,  sir,  whether  selected  to  wield  this  weapon 
against  our  country's  foes,  or  to  present  it  to  one  so 
nobly  deserving  as  yourself,  I  acknowledge  but  few 
equals,  and  no  superiors.  (Immense  applause.)  Sir,  in 
presenting  to  you  this  sword,  the  Association  feels  that 
it  will  ever  be  wielded  in  defence  of  your  country's 
cause ;  and  although  the  material  is  wood,  and  it  may 
not  be  so  neatly  made  nor  so  handsomely  ornamented 
as  some  you  have  seen,  yet,  sir,  this  Association  believes 
that,  for  all  the  purposes  for  which  you  will  be  called 
upon  to  use  a  sword,  this  will  answer  as  well  as  any 


74  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

other.  You  will  see,  sir,  by  the  peculiar  half-circle 
shape  of  this  beautiful  blade,  that  it  is  well  adapted  to 
fighting  from  behind  a  tree, — thus  typifying  the  skill 
you  have  shown  whilst  at  bay  behind  that  old  oak-tree 
three  miles  from  the  battle-field."  (Applause.) 

Here  the  speaker  drew  out  an  elaborate  sash,  manu- 
factured from  an  old  hemp  rope  found  in  the  warehouse. 
"And,  sir,  accompanying  the  sword  is  this  superb  sash, 
which,  although  of  different  material  from  that  ordi- 
narily used,  we  assure  you  is  a  very  substantial  one ; 
and,  believing  you  to  be  a  man  of  destiny,  we  think  it 
indicative  of  the  fate  that  awaits  you."  (Great  sensa- 
tion, amidst  which  the  speaker  took'his  seat.) 

The  honored  guest  of  the  Association  here  arose, 
and,  when  silence  was  restored,  thus  addressed  the 
meeting : — 

"Gentlemen  of  the  R.  P.  A.,  it  is  with  feelings  of 
the  deepest  emotion  that  I  arise  to  address  you  on  this 
momentous  occasion.  (Applause.)  Allow  me  to  thank 
you,  gentlemen,  for  these  tokens  of  your  kind  regards. 
The  gentleman,  in  alluding  to  the  shape  of  this  sword, 
said— and,  I  thought,  rather  ironically — that  it  was 
adapted  to  fighting  from  behind  a  tree,  alluding,  I  sup- 
pose, to  the  fact  that  I  took  shelter  from  the  shot  and 
shell  of  the  enemy  at  Bull  Run.  In  so  doing,  I  but 
followed  the  example  of  the  immortal  General  Jackson, 
and  other  brave  and  distinguished  men,  in  appropriating 
to  my  use  the  most  secure  and  convenient  shelter.  If 
the  gentleman  means  to  insinuate  that  cowardice 
induced  me  to  take  that  position,  it  is  a  false  and  un- 
gentlemanly  assertion, — one  for  which  I  will  hold  him 
personally  responsible."  (Sensation.) 

The  chairman  of  the  committee  here  arose  and  ex- 


PURSUITS    AND    PASTIMES.  75 

plained  : — "  He  was  sorry  the  gentleman  had  so  con- 
strued his  remarks :  he  certainly  meant  nothing  of  the 
kind.  On  the  contrary,  he  admired  the  gentleman's 
prudence  and  discretion." 

The  honored  guest  resumed  : — "  The  gentleman's 
allusion  to  the  sash,  as  indicative  of  the  fate  that  awaits 
me,  is  not  calculated  to  produce  pleasant  sensations ; 
but,  gentlemen,  I  am  ever  ready,  if  need  be,  like  Regu- 
lus  at  the  gates  of.  Rome,  to  offer  up  my  life  for  the 
good  of  my  country,  let  the  sacrifice  come  in  whatever 
shape  it  may."  Amidst  immense  applause,  the  honored 
guest  took  his  seat. 

The  meeting  then  adjourned,  and  the  Association 
went  to  bed. 

Companions,  will  you  ever  forget  Sunday,  February 
17,  1862, — the  day  to  be  remembered  for  rumors 
and  sells  ?  For  weeks  we  had  expected  to  receive  from 
the  Confederate  War  Department  a  list  of  officers  to 
be  sent  North,  through  a  flag  of  truce,  and  for  hours 
daily  we  had  discussed  excitedly  the  chances  of  each. 
What  rumors !  Yesterday,  fifteen  second  lieutenants 
only  were  to  go;  to-day,  six  captains,  five  first  lieu- 
tenants, and  only  four  second  lieutenants;  the  next, 
none  knew  what  grade,  how  many,  or  who.  We  were 
in  a  perfect  tumult  of  expectation  for  days, — rumors 
upon  rumors,  sells  upon  sells. 

"Winder's  aid  just  arrived  at  the  prison-office," 
caused  us  to  run  to  the  window  in  crowds,  only  to 
see  a  fat  negro  dismounting  from  a  lean  horse.  "All 
the  officers  were  to  go  North,  for  Secretary  Stanton 
had  ordered  General  Wool  to  exchange  the  Roanoke 


76  PRISON-LIFE   AT  RICHMOND. 

officers/'  came  like  a  balmy  breeze  upon  heated  hearts 
and  brows. 

What  an  excitement  was  created  by  the  prison-clerk's 
coming  in  and  getting  the  rank  of  all  the  officers! 
How  we  crowded  around  him,  jostling  and  elbowing  to 
catch  a  sight  of  his  book !  Going  out  for  a  few  min- 
utes, he  returned,  and  commenced  calling  the  officers' 
names.  One-half  of  us  thought  it  was  a  list  of  those 
who  were  to  be  released.  What  a  rejoicing  smile  lit 
up  the  face  of  each  man  as  his  name  was  called !  At 
last  the  list  is  through,  and  we  are  told  it  is  merely  a 
list  to  send  to  General  Winder. 

Every  minute  the  door  would  creak  on  its  hinges. 
Surely  the  list  is  come.  What  causes  the  delay?  Con- 
found the  Confederate  red  tape  ! 

How  the  "Bull-Runners"  strutted  about,  full  of 
bread,  beef,  and  certainty !  The  "  Leesburgers"  '  coun- 
tenances mirrored  hope  and  fond  expectations.  Excite- 
ment increased  daily  and  hourly.  Exchange  was  break- 
fast, dinner,  and  supper. 

So  Sunday  came, — our  day  for  surprises  and  releases. 
Rumors  afloat,  freighted  with  delight  and  terror.  Read 
them.  Here  they  are : — 

No.  1.  Federal  reverses  at  Fort  Donelson ;  seventeen 
gun-boats  sunk,  and  ten  thousand  Federal  prisoners. 

No.  2.  All  the  Federal  officers  south  of  Richmond 
arrived  at  Norfolk,  for  exchange. 

No.  3.  Mrs.  Greenough  to  be  exchanged  for  Federal 
Captain  L . 

No.  4.  Her  daughter  Rose  to  be  exchanged  for  our 
"  Madam,"  Lieut.  And ,  of  our  warehouse. 

No.  5.  The  entire  Federal  army  on  the  Potomac 
advancing  with  lassos,  to  capture  a  Confederate  cap- 


PURSUITS   AND    PASTIMES.  77 

tain  of  cavalry  to  exchange  for  Captain  T ,  of  the 

United  States  cavalry,  now  in  confinement  vile  at 
Richmond. 

No.  6.  Federal  gun-boats  said  to  be  captured  at  Fort 
Donelson  to  be  exchanged  for  Federal  colonels. 

No.  7.  Federal  skiffs  do.  do.  for  second-lieutenants. 

No.  8.  Confederate  "  horse-marines,"  taken  at  Roa- 
noke,  to  be  exchanged  for  Federal  cavalry  at  Rich- 
mond. 

No.  9.  Marshal  Kane's  police,  of  Baltimore,  to  be 
exchanged  for  hostages. 

No.  10.  All  the  Federal  officers  in  the  warehouse 
invited  to  attend  Captain  0.  Jennings  Wise's  funeral. 

No.  11.  General  Winder's  aid  just  arrived  at  the 
prison-office  with  list  of  Federal  officers  released. 

The  eleventh  rumor  came  like  a  thunderbolt.  Kerns, 
who  had  been  assured  by  Confederate  officials  of  his 
release,  received  the  news  first. 

It  came  from  one  of  the  officers  of  the  prison,  who 
told  him  through  the  bars.  Joy  and  sadness,  despair 
and  ecstasy,  came  with  it.  Condensed,  it  was  as  fol- 
lows :  "Kerns's  name  was  not  on  it,  but  Captains  T 

and  L headed  the  list.  Both  White  and  Glover, 

old  residents  of  the  warehouse,  and  Bull-Runners,  were 
omitted." 

What  an  effect  it  had  upon  all!  Poor  Kerns! 
look  at  him.  There  he  sits  at  his  "mess-table,"  dig- 
ging away  in  desperation  at  the  pine  table  with  his 
jack-knife.  He  talks  to  no  one.  Sympathizer  after 
sympathizer  comes  up  to  him :  he  heeds  them  not. 

Captain  L ,  with  a  solemn  oath  of  honor,  pledges 

his  interest  for  him  when  he  gets  to  Washington, — 
swears  he  will  go  to  the  President,  see  Schuyler  Colfax 


78  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

and  every  Congressman  in  Washington,  spend  his  whole 
furlough  there,  and  stick  to  Lincoln  until  he  gets  a 
written  discharge  for  a  "  Secesh"  lieutenant  from  Fort 
Warren.  He  will  then  go  to  the  fort  and  bring  the 
"  Secesh"  to  Fortress  Monroe  himself,  and  see  him 
shipped  to  Norfolk  for  Kerns. 

Generous  L !  inconsolable  Kerns !  who  will  say 

nothing  but — "  J  want  to  be  a  hostage  :  I  never  expect 
to  get  home  again." 

The  excitemerfl  is  wild  all  over  the  room.  Feverish 
groups  discuss  it,  wondering  who  else  is  chosen,  and 

hoping  for  their  own  chances.  G ,  a  Bull-Runner 

who  expected  to  go,  tries  to  appear  indifferent,  but  it  is 
with  a  wry  face  and  bitter  heart.  W and  his  sym- 
pathizers have  their  heads  together,  cursing  the  Con- 
federates and  anathematizing  the  Federal  authorities. 

Captain  L ,  one  of  the  lucky  ones,  is  perfectly 

brilliant  with  joy,  promising  all  to  move  earth  and  the 
President  to  accomplish  their  early  release. 

T smiles  with  exuberance  of  delight, — is  reading 

Maryatt  upside  down.  No,  no,  T ;  you  are  perfectly 

saturated  with  joy,  if  you  do  try  to  hide  it.  Look,  T , 

at  poor  Kerns,  as  he  sits  slashing  away  at  his  "  mess- 
table."  You  are  a  lucky  dog,  T ,  and  Kerns  is  a 

poor  devil  of  misfortune  and  disappointment. 

At  night  a  list  is  circulated  through  the  room,  con- 
taining the  names  of  those  chosen  for  release,  and  con- 
gratulations resound,  and  the  tumult  increases,  until 
every  heart  on  the  floor  is  at  fever-heat.  Suddenly  it 
becomes  known  that  the  events  of  this  day  have  been  a 
complete  succession  of  sells,  concocted  and  developed  by 
Kerns  and  his  coterie  of  wits  and  jokers.  And  the  last 
sell,  complete,  and  perfect,  sends  us  to  bed  to  commise- 


PUESUITS   AND    PASTIMES.  79 

rale  our  worthy  Captains  T and  L ,  who  still 

persist  in  believing  in  the  authenticity  of  the  list,  al- 
though it  was  written  by  a  brother-prisoner  within 
arm's-length  of  them. 

The  privates  in  an  adjoining  warehouse  have  organized 
a  dramatic  association,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  their 
officers,  have  been  enabled  to  purchase  a  drop-curtain, 
scenes,  and  other  stage-fixtures. 

On  Christmas  night  they  presented  "  Bob  Roy"  and 
a  farce  "  written  for  the  occasion"  by  the  manager. 
But  one  officer  was  allowed  to  attend,  who,  on  his  re- 
turn, represented  the  performance  to  have  been  of  an 
excellent  character  and  the  farce  overflowing  with 
prison-hits  and  comic  burlesque.  In  connection  with 
the  theatre  they  have  an  admirable  glee-club,  whose 
cultivated  voices  often  cause  the  evening  on  the  officers' 
floor  to  pass  pleasantly  and  swiftly  away. 

In  our  dreamy  walks  to  while  away  the  day  we  have 
succeeded  in  ascertaining  that  in  the  floor  of  our  room 
there  are  just  two  hundred  and  eighty-eight  planks 
and  in  the  ceiling  eighty-four  joists ;  and  we  doubt  not 
that  some  of  us  can  tell  the  number  of  nails  driven  or 
the  bricks  used  in  the  structure  of  the  first  floor  of  our 
warehouse. 

As  night  wears  on,  we  gather  around  the  cot  of  our 
expositor  of  exchange,  and  consult  the  oracle  concern- 
ing our  future  hopes  and  destinies :  the  volume  is 
opened,  and  we  review  the  market  for  the  past  week, 
which  often  presents  the  following  record  : — 


80  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

RICHMOND    PRISON   EXCHANGE    MARKET, 

For  the  week  ending  Saturday,  January  4,  1862, 

Sunday. — Firm,  yet  quiet. 
Monday. — Excited  and  feverish. 
Tuesday. — Buoyant;  prices  advancing. 

Wednesday. — Perfectly  wild ;    every  man,  woman,  and  child  in 
the  North  holds  scrip.     Rumors  of  government  investing. 
Thursday. — Moderating. 
Friday. — Dull  and  weak 
Saturday. — Market  flat. 

Silently  we  close  the  great  book,  and  the  second  and 
last  volume  of  "  Hart  on  Exchange"  is  locked  up  in — 
sleep. 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  81 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PRISON-INCIDENTS. 

WE  are  occasionally  called  upon  to  bid  adieu  to  our 
brother-officers;  who,  at  the  desire  of  President  Davis, 
journey  to  Tuscaloosa,  Alabama,  and  other  localities, 
for  the  purpose  of  establishing  branches  of  the  Eich- 
mond  Prison  Association ;  and  many  earnest  talkers 
may  be  heard  around  the  room,  debating  the  proba- 
bilities there  of  good  quarters,  gentle  treatment,  and 
obliging  and  courteous  commanding  officers. 

The  greater  number  have  volunteered,  any  change,  to 
them,  being  preferable  to  the  dull  routine  and  unvary- 
ing sameness  of  Eichmond  prison-life,  while  many  pre- 
fer to  remain  here,  realizing  that  the  change  will  only 
add  zest  to  imprisonment  for  a  few  days, — as 

"Iron  bars  in  any  clime 
Oppress  the  eagle  soul  alike." 

A  few  of  the  departing  officers  have  been  chosen  by  the 
Confederate  authorities  for  the  obnoxious  expression  of 
their  Northern  sentiments.  A  captain  from  New  York, 
at  the  last  meeting  of  the  E.  P.  A.,  drew  around  him 
the  Star-Spangled  Banner  too  fiercely  in  his  speech ; 
and  a  lieutenant  from  Pennsylvania  spoke  of  McClellan's 
speedy  advance  on  Eichmond,  with  allusions  to  the 
growth  of  hemp  and  its  adaptation  to  P^ebel  necks. 


82  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

They  both  go  to  Tuscaloosa,  where,  according  to  Con- 
federate report,  the  population  is  scanty,  and  "  not  to 
be  corrupted,  even  by  the  Yankees." 

A  meeting  of  the  Association  is  called.  Hats  off, 
silent  and  orderly,  we  gather  in  the  western  section  of 
the  room.  Upon  a  mess-table  is  placed  a  chair,  and, 
with  the  assistance  of  the  Sergeant-at-Arms  and  the 
Page,  the  honorable  President  (from  Manassas)  is  duly 
mounted.  Our  sturdy  Vice-President  (from  the  rocky 
denies  of  Western  Virginia)  sits  cross-legged  at  the 
feet  of  the  President.  The  venerable  Secretary  (from 
Bull  Eun)  is  at  his  table.  Our  clerical  Sergeant-at- 
Arms  (another  unfortunate  Bull-Runner)  is  on  the  Pre- 
sident's right ;  while  the  Page  (sad  relic  of  Chicama- 
comico)  stands  ready  for  his  varied  duties. 

The  President  announces  that  the  object  of  the  meet- 
ing is  to  bid  farewell  to  our  brother-officers  who,  on 
the  morrow,  part  from  us  for  the  purpose  of  reani- 
mating the  village  of  Tuscaloosa,  Alabama,  by  the  un- 
quenched  though  chained  spirit  of  the  "  eternal  Yankee." 
A  motion  is  made,  seconded,  presented,  and  carried 
that  our  estimable  page  (Lieutenant  Hart)  be  deputed 
to  express  his  own  feelings,  as  well  as  those  of  the  As- 
sociation, at  the  separation.  Rising  with  demure  face 
and  twinkling  eye,  and  drawing  one  hand  slowly  over 
his  immense  beard,  the  page,  in  a  deep,  rolling  voice, 
commences : — 

"  Mr.  President,  and  gentlemen  of  the  R.  P.  A. : 
Were  it  known,  sirs,  throughout  my  country  that  I, 
an  humble  representative  from  the  Wabash,  had  been 
deputed  as  the  choice  of  this  great  body  to  tender  a 
sad  farewell  to  our  departing  brethren, — I  say,  sirs, 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  OO 

were  it  known  there,  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
would  throw  up  their  hands,  crying  aloud, — 

"  '  My  Hart  is  exalted,  and  I  sleep  in  peace.' 

"  Gentlemen  who  leave  us  to-morrow,  you  have  all 
been  startled,  at  some  period  of  your  prison-life,  "by  the 
question,  '  What  did  you  come  down  here  for  ?'  When 
you  arrive  at  your  haven  of  captivity, — when  anxious 
curiosity  assembles  the  mob  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  your 
persons, — when  sallow  shadows  stand  beside  those  Lam- 
bert forms  of  yours,  and  cruel  voices  probe  your  modest 
natures  with  the  rude  and  unchristian-like  inquiry, 
'  What  did  you  come  down  here  for  ?' — tell  them,  sirs, 
that  you  came  to  plant  in  the  arid  soil  of  the  South  the 
germ  of  conservatism,  pumpkin- vines,  and  '  Yankee 
notions/  Go,  sirs,  from  these  walls,  ragged  though 
you  be,  the  representatives  of  ourselves,  the  E.  P.  A. ; 
and,  as  you  tread  the  paths  of  Secessia,  remember  that 
'  by  your  deeds  ye  shall  be  known/  We  will  miss  you 
sadly :  these  halls  '  that  have  known  you  o&ce  shall 
know  you  no  more ;'  but  you  go  to  grace  others  better 
fitted  for  your  jailers, — the  unfinished  lunatic- asylum 
of  Alabama.  Shed  honor  upon  i|,  gentlemen ;  and  when 
1  exchange'  shall  resound  through  the  land,  fail  not  to 
re-echo  its  glad  notes  until  we  are  sent,  even  though 
it  be  through  l  the  wreck  of  matter  and  the  crush  of 
worlds/  rejoicing  to  our  homes." 

Our  page  retires,  and  speeches  follow  on  every  side. 
Can  we  ever  forget  the  quiet  humor  of  Merrill,  the 
rich  drollery  of  Cox;  the  "  Star-Spangled-Banner" 
fierceness  of  O'Meara,  the  quaint  suggestions  of  Dick- 
inson, or  the  happy  parliamentary  ruling  of  our  honor- 


84:  PBISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

able  President  ?    It  was  a  gay  and  frolicsome  meeting, 
and  closed  with  our  prison-song, — 

"  Roll  on,  roll  on,  sweet  moments,  roll  on, 
And  let  the  poor  prisoners  go  home,  go  home  !" 

The  next  morning,  at  twelve  o'clock,  we  gathered 
around  the  door  to  bid  them  a  last  farewell.  As  each 
name  was  called,  the  owner  would  respond,  "  Ay,"  and 
pass  to  the  door,  pausing  there  to  grasp  warm  hands, 
and  to  return  a  hearty  "  God  bless  you,  old  fellow ! 
take  care  of  yourself." 

Some  left  sadly,  others  cheerfully.  Our  "  Tycoon" 
— the  merriest  and  blithest  spirit  in  our  little  band — 
left  with  a  tear  upon  his  sailor  cheek.  Cox,  the  hardy, 
noble,  and  brave,  with  his  straw  hat  (it  was  Novem- 
ber) and  tight  breeches, — an  extra  pair  under  his  arm, 
the  only  baggage  he  had, — left  us  with  an  air  of  droll 
indifference  in  perfect  keeping  with  his  rugged  yet 
estimable  self. 

Passing  into  the  street,  they  formed  four  abreast,  the 
guard  being  drawn  up  in  an  oblong  square  to  receive 
them.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  privates  followed,  in 
destitution  and  rags. 

The  Confederate  lieutenant,  after  repeatedly  filing, 
wheeling,  and  countermarching  his  men,  at  last  suc- 
ceeded in  closing  up  the  square.  As  they  marched  off, 
three  hearty  cheers  were  given  by  the  remaining  pri- 
soners, which  had  scarcely  subsided  when  the  clarion 
voices  of  two  hundred  men  on  the  upper  floor  rose  in 
the  grand  swelling  chorus  of  "the  Star-Spangled  Ban- 
ner," filling  the  streets  for  squares  with  its  noble 
melody.  The  crowd  looked  on  astonished.  The  Confede- 
rate officers  seemed  startled  at  the  boldness  of  the  act. 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  •  85 

Louder  and  louder  rose  the  gorgeous  old  song,  until  it 
seemed  to  touch  even  the  turbid  hearts  of  the  thousand 
Eebel  by-standers.  Speedily  the  commandant  of  the 
post  ordered  silence,  and  the  officer  of  the  day  enforced 
it  by  his  presence  on  the  upper  floor ;  yet  often,  during 
the  rest  of  the  day,  would  portions  of  that  thrilling 
anthem  come  to  our  ears,  through  the  cracks  of  the  old 
warehouse. 

While  we  part  sadly  from  those  who  leave  us,  we  greet 
with  mingled  pleasure  and  regret  the  few  visitors  we  re- 
ceive from  the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  comprising  Fede- 
ral officers  who  command  adventurous  scouting-parties, 
or  unlucky  overt  picket-guards  who  are  surrounded 
and  captured  by  the  Confederate  cavalry  scouts. 

When  these  unfortunates  are  brought  among  us,  they 
s&Q  received  with  open  hearts  at  hospitable  boards,  yet 
,with  a  rush  of  eager  questions,  such  as,  "  Will  McClellan 
advance  ?"  "  How  many  of  you  were  taken  ?"  "  When 
were  you  taken  ?"  &c.  &.c.,  until  our  new  brethren  are 
confused  and  exhausted,  and  are  taken  by  some  good 
Samaritan  to  his  "  mess"-table,  where  "  eat  and  be 
welcome"  speaks  from  every  article  of  the  shining  tin 
crockery. 

We  greeted  upon  one  occasion  a  rather  singular 
addition  to  our  circle.  Two  boys,  dressed  in  military 
costume,  were  marched  under  guard  into  our  ware- 
house. Upon  inquiry,  we  found  their  names  to  be 
Thomas  L.  Wilkinson,  aged  fourteen,  of  Poughkeepsie, 
New  York,  and  Charles  Smith,  aged  thirteen,  of  Lowell, 
Massachusetts. 

They  had  been  boating  on  the  Potomac  River,  and 
landed  on  the  Virginia  shore  from  curiosity,  not  im- 
agining they  were  "  contraband  of  war."  The  Con- 


86  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

federate  pickets  arrested  them,  and  the  commanding 
officer  sent  them  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  to 
Eichmond,  where  they  were  confined  in  our  warehouse. 
After  a  few  days  the  Confederate  authorities  released 
them,  no  doubt  heartily  ashamed  of  their  capture  and 
detention. 

The  arrival  of  these  boys,  and  the  association  with 
them,  constituted  a  pleasant  episode  in  our  prison-life. 

To  those  among  us  having  families,  they  brought 
a  picture  of  home,  whilst  to  all  they  seemed  a  new 
connecting-link  with  our  past  pleasures  and  familiar 
enjoyments. 

We  have  a  curious  assortment  of  character,  under  sus- 
picion of  the  authorities,  thrust  among  us,  whose  asso- 
ciation, though  it  sometimes  causes  annoyance,  usually 
furnishes  amusement.  Among  the  many  may  be  noted 
one  that  excited  much  wonder  and  some  suspicion. 

He  was  a  man  apparently  thirty-five  years  of  age, 
whose  general  appearance,  though  a  little  seedy,  indi- 
cated former  gentility.  He  arrived  at  ten  o'clock  at 
night,  and  was  furnished  with  a  straw  bed  and  blanket. 
Early  next  morning  it  was  whispered  around  that  "we 
had  a  crazy  man  among  us."  His  actions  were  singu- 
lar, as  he  would  sit  for  hours  cross-legged,  with  fingers 
interlocked,  and  eyes  fixed  upon  one  of  us,  conversing 
with  himself. 

When  questioned  regarding  his  capture  and  history, 
his  replies  were  perfectly  unintelligible,  except  that 
seven  hundred  thousand  Germans  would  land  in  New 
York  next  week  and  surround  and  capture  the  city. 
Thus  he  continued  until  late  in  the  day,  when  he  was 
removed  from  the  room,  yet  not  until  many  suspected 
our  friend,  with  his  warlike  Teutons,  to  be  an  impostor. 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  87 

They  judged  from  experience;  since,  in  several  in- 
stances, men  "  under  suspicion"  had  proved  to  be  de- 
tective officers  placed  among  us,  and  instructed  to  note 
the  opinions  and  political  sentiments  expressed  by  the 
officers  generally,  and  particularly  by  those  suspected 
of  Abolition  proclivities. 

In  October,  Colonel  Adler,  of  the  Confederate  Army, 
or,  as  he  styles  himself,  Adolphus  H.  Adler,  Colonel, 
Engineer-in-Chief  of  Wise  Brigade,  Hungarian,  late 
of  Garibaldi's  staff,  became  an  inmate  of  our  warehouse. 
He  was  suspected  of  Northern  sympathies :  yet  the  im- 
mediate cause,  no  doubt,  of  his  arrest,  was  the- free  ex- 
pression of  his  opinions  relative  to  the  military  talents 
of  General  "Wise,  Ex-Governor  of  Virginia,  whom  he 
persisted  in  styling  "No  soljare,  no  soljare."  When 
first  arrested,  he  was  placed  in  jail,  and  mischievously 
informed  that  he  would  be  hung, — when  he  immediately 
attempted  to  cut  his  throat,  but  only  partially  succeeded. 

He  was  in  constant  dread  of  being  tried  and  handed 
over  to  the  hangman ;  and  we  verily  believe  that  he 
would  have  turned  Turk,  Secesh,  and  Unionist  alter- 
nately, in  order  to  escape  his  portending  doom.  He  is 
now  in  Richmond  jail,  leisurely  awaiting  the  course  of 
events. 

J.  W.  Jones,  aged  twenty-two,  small  in  stature,  un- 
whiskered,  unheralded,  and  unknown,  relieved  the  mo- 
notony of  our  prison-life  by  sharing  it  with  us  during 
the  early  part  of  January. 

He  came  to  us  clothed  in  an  officer's  uniform,  and 
with  the  usual  qualifications  of  a  rabid  Secesh, — rash- 
ness of  speech,  impulsive  ardor,  barrenness  of  argu- 
ment, and  swaggering  affectation  of  chivalric  refine- 
ment of  manners.  He  caused  much  amusement,  and 


88  PEISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

was  soon  looked  upon  as  a  harmless  addition  to  our 
many  petty  annoyances. 

The  circumstances  of  his  arrest  are  as  follow, — 
being  condensed  from  his  own  version  of  them. 

Some  years  ago,  he  became  embroiled  in  a  difficulty 
with  an  old  man  in  South  Carolina,  during  which 
he  discomfited  the  old  gentleman,  who  thereupon 
vowed  vengeance  through  all  eternity. 

In  December,  while  seeking  employment  as  an 
officer  in  the  Confederate  army,  Jones,  unfortunately, 
met  his  implacable  enemy  in  a  hotel  at  Winchester, 
Virginia,  which  being  near  the  Federal  lines,  he 
caused  Jones  to  be  arrested  upon  the  charge  of 
"  attempted  desertion  to  the  enemy."  Jones  insists 
that  the  charge  is  false,  that  the  old  man  is  a  rascal,  and 
that  his  imprisonment — to  use  his  own  words, — "is 
a  great  national  blunder." 

He  threatens  vengeance  when  released,  and  proposes 
to  gratify  it  under  three  distinct  headings.  1.  Sueing 
the  old  man  for  false  imprisonment.  2.  Getting  Jef- 
ferson Davis  to  punish  the  old  man  for  false  charges 
against  a  loyal  citizen.  3.  Providing  the  old  man  with 
a  bullet  and  a  grave.  Upon  being  asked  if  the  vin- 
dictive but  doomed  old  gentleman  had  any  property, 
Jones  replied,  "No;  but  he  had  a  splendid  set  of  sur- 
gical instruments,  which  he  (Jones)  would  get  hold  of 
and  sell  at  an  enormous  price,  said  articles  being  in 
great  demand  at  Southern  hospitals." 

Jones  possesses  a  literary  talent  and  taste  calculated 
to  render  his  society  pleasing  and  his  friendship  valu- 
able. He  requested  and  obtained  permission  to  inscribe 
the  following  original  verses  in  the  autograph-book  of 
one  of  the  officers,  in  commemoration  of  his  own  im- 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  89 

prisonment,  and  as  a  tribute  of  enthusiastic  friendship 
for  the  Federal  officers :— 7 

"  The  fortunes  of  war  have  thrown  us  together; 
The  fortunes  of  war  sever  us  forever. 
In  prison  we  met,  in  prison  we  part : 
Thou  lingerest  still,  while  I  depart. 
I  leave  you  for  the  dark,  bloody  field, — 
My  watchword  and  cry,  *  I  die  ere  I  yield.' 
Adieu,  adieu!  my  country's  voice  I  hear, 
And,  with  a  heart  unknown  to  fear, 
I  gladly  obey  my  loved  country's  call, 
And  swear  with  her  to  stand  or  with  her  to  fall. 
"  J.  W.  JONES,  NEWBERRY,  S.  C. 

0.  S.  C.  S.  A." 

On  the  31st  of  January,  to  our  astonishment,  the 
commandant  of  the  post  removed  Jones,  announcing 
that  he  was  a  spy,  and  would  be  confined  in  jail.  His 
removal  took  place  immediately.  We  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  Jones,  if  a  spy,  was  a  shrewd  one;  if  he 
was  not,  then  the  Confederate  authorities  recklessly  ex- 
tended the  "  national  blunder"  by  confining  him.  Poor 
Jones !  we  sadly  fear  the  old  man  will  get  the  best  of 
you,  and  that  your  well-organized  system  of  revenge 
will  prove  harmless  to  his  person  and  his  surgical  in- 
struments. 

While  we  derive  amusement  from  those  who  thus  so- 
journ in  our  midst,  we  also  obtain  information  of  a 
character  interesting  to  ourselves,  and  in  some  instances 
valuable  to  our  government. 

We  have  had  the  details  of  the  hazardous  smuggling- 
trade  unfolded  to  us  by  Charles  E.  Branch,  'of  Balti- 
more. His  occupation  was  that  of  smuggling  between 
Baltimore  and  the  Virginia  shore. 

Leaving  the  vessel  upon  which  he  was  employed  at 


90  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

the  mouth  of  the  Potomac  Elver,  he  had  visited  Frede- 
ricksburg  for  the  purpose  of  enlisting  in  the  Con- 
federate Army,  and  was  leisurely  occupied  in  choosing, 
from  the  number  around  him,  the  company  best  suited 
to  his  tastes  and  habits.  Unfortunately,  he  was  slow 
in  his  deliberations,  and  at  the  end  of  two  weeks  was 
arrested  in  the  hotel,  whilst  sitting  at  the  breakfast-table. 

His  money  (one  hundred  and  eighty  dollars  in  gold) 
was  taken  from  him,  and  he  was  brought  speedily  to 
Eichmond.  He  arrived  very  destitute  in  funds,  and 
equally  so  in  appearance,  and  was  furnished  with  food 
at  our  "  mess"-table  and  lodging  upon  our  floor  for  two 
weeks,  when  he  was  called  into  the  presence  of  Con- 
federate Commissioner  Baxter,  who  listened  to  his  story, 
produced  no  witness  against  him,  and  promised  him 
speedy  release  and  restoration  of  his  money.  He  left  us 
on  the  21st  of  February,  professedly  as  good  a  Union 
man  as  any  in  the  building.  During  his  stay  with  us,  he 
freely  narrated  his  own  experience,  as  well  as  the  gene- 
ral details  of  the  smuggling-trade  between  Baltimore  and 
the  Virginia  waters,  of  which  the  following  is  a  sketch. 

The  captain  of  a  Baltimore  schooner  having  deter- 
mined to  speculate  in  articles  "  contraband  of  war," 
he  procures  from  the  Federal  authorities  a  clearance 
for  his  vessel  to  go  upon  an  oyster-trip.  His  next 
object  is  to  purchase  a  cargo  and  load  his  vessel.  The 
first  is  easy  of  attainment,  as  Secession  merchants  swarm 
the  streets  and  docks  of  Baltimore,  and  freely  render 
him  assistance.  Where  a  cargo  of  salt  is  purchased,  it 
is  always  from  a  merchant  whose  store  is  immediately 
contiguous  to  the  vessel ;  and  during  the  small  hours  of 
the  night,  having  bribed  the  ward-police  or  put  them 
under  the  tender  care  of  decoys,  the  merchant  throws 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  91 

open  his  doors,  and  the  salt  in  sacks  is  quickly  conveyed 
into  the  hold.  If  a  cargo  of  medicines  and  other  articles 
is  purchased,  they  are  conveyed  in  wagons  to  Back 
Biver,  eight  miles  from  Baltimore,  where  the  skipper 
loads  them  during  the  night. 

The  cargo  being  safely  on  board,  and  hatches  snug 
and  weather-bound,  the  little  craft  proceeds  on  her 
voyage  of  peril  and  of  profit. 

She  meets,  perhaps,  a  dozen  United  States  steamers 
on  her  trip  down,  but  boldly  runs  on  her  course,  and, 
when  hailed,  hauls  close  alongside  the  steamer.  Our 
oyster-captain  elevates  his  hand,  containing  the  clear- 
ance-papers of  his  vessel,  which  proceeding  is  generally 
responded  to  by,  "  All  right !  go  ahead  !" 

If — as  sometimes  occurs — our  skipper  should  hap- 
pen to  meet  what  he  calls  "a  partic'lar  Yankee  captain," 
who  orders  a  boat  to  be  lowered  and  an  officer  to  visit 
the  "  oyster-pungy,"  what  matters  it  ?  Is  not  his  vessel 
compelled  to  carry  ballast  on  the  downward  trip  ?  Is 
not  sand  the  usual  ballast  for  Chesapeake  oyster-crafts  ? 
And  has  he  not  his  contraband  cargo  snugly  stowed  in 
the  hold,  with  canvas  over  it  and  sand  a  foot  deep 
over  the  canvas,  fore  and  aft  ? 

In  this  way  does  he  avoid  the  perils  of  a  smuggling- 
voyage.  But  his  danger  is  not  yet  over. 

He  steers  for  the  mouth  of  the  Potomac  Biver,  on 
the  Maryland  side  of  which  lie  immense  oyster-beds. 
If  he  is  caught  crossing  the  Potomac,  woe  be  to  his 
liberty  and  cargo.  But  he  is  not  caught.  For  days  he 
will  dredge  for  oysters,  seemingly  intent  upon  no  other 
object.  United  States  vessels  pass  and  re-pass  him 
daily :  he  is  undisturbed,  and,  if  noticed,  it  is  merely 
by  some  sympathizing  tar  in  the  forecastle,  who  per- 


92  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

haps  exclaims,  "Lo!  the  poor  fisherman!"  recalling  his 
own  sad  experience.  But  our  smuggler  only  lies  wait- 
ing patiently  till  wind  and  weather  are  favorable.  Then-, 
at  midnight,  he  will  dart  out  from  his  oyster-cove  and 
speed  swiftly  to  his  haven  of  safety, — Yacomico  River, 
Northumberland  county,  Virginia,  emptying  into  the 
Potomac  just  above  its  mouth,  distant  from  Baltimore 
one  hundred  and  forty  miles.  Here  he  is  greeted  with 
cordiality  and  gold ;  for  does  he  not  bring  quinine  for 
the  sick,  salt  for  the  hogs,  and  gold  braid  for  the 
motley- garbed  militia-officers  ? 

The  oyster-skipper  unloads  his  cargo,  pockets  the 
specie,  runs  back  on  a  dark  night  to  the  Maryland 
shore,  catches  a  few  oysters  as  a  blind,  and  returns  to 
Baltimore,  prepared  to  repeat  his  hazardous  voyage. 

The  venture  is  always  profitable.  One  in  which  our 
friend  Branch  was  concerned,  in  a  large  schooner, 
realized  thirty  thousand  dollars.  In  this  case,  the  vessel 
was  sold  to  the  Confederates  for  a  fraction  of  her  cost, 
it  being  dangerous  to  return  with  her  to  Baltimore. 
Underground  mails  are  forwarded  by  this  channel. 
Virginia  funds  and  Confederate  bonds,  amounting  to 
eighteen  thousand  dollars,  in  one  instance  authenticated 
by  Branch,  were  furnished  a  Secession  merchant  of  Bal- 
timore, who  returned  for  them  an  equal  amount  in  gold. 

In  shame  be  it  said,  the  most  active  and  expert 
in  thus  aiding  the  Rebels  are  from  the  New  England 
States.  It  is,  however,  cheering  to  reflect  that  names  of 
men  and  vessels  have  been  furnished  the  United  States 
government,  and  that  a  speedy  punishment  must  follow. 
We  doubt  not  that  these  ingenious  and  energetic  traders 
have  earned  a  double  profit  from  both  governments,  by 
Belling  information  of  value  to  each  successively. 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  93 

Exciting  rumors  of  battles,  with  thunder-and-light- 
ning  details  of  immense  Federal  loss  and  invariable 
panic,  often  get  through  the  bars, — how,  and  from 
whence,  none  can  tell :  yet  we  greedily  devour  the  ob- 
noxious morsel,  appear  in  whatever  shape  it  may. 
Sometimes  the  report  reaches  the  importance  of  an 
extra,  printed  on  a  sheet  eight  inches  long  and  three 
inches  wide,  issued  by  a  Eichmond  paper,  of  one  of 
which  the  following  is  a  verbatim  copy  : — 

DAILY  ENQUIRER. 

Further  News  from  the  North ! 

HIGHLY  IMPORTANT!! 

PETERSBURG,  Dec.  19,  1861. 

A  telegram  from  Norfolk  reports  that  Faulkner 
has  arrived  under  a  flag  of  truce. 

There  has  been  a  universal  suspension  of 
specie-payment  at  the  North. 

Mr.  Adams,  United  States  Minister  to  London, 
immediately  demanded  his  passports  upon  the 
issue  of  the  Queen's  proclamtaion. 

The  effect  of  the  news  was  very  great  at  New 
York.  There  was  a  fall  of  three  per  cent,  on 
United  States  stocks,  and  a  depreciation  of  five 
and  six  per  cent,  on  all  stocks. 

Federal  securities  fell  two  per  cent. 

Missouri  fell  three  per  cent.  Exchange  went 
up  to  110  @  111. 

Breadstuffs  favorably  affected;  all  descrip- 
tions firmer.  Cotton  withdrawn  from  the  mar- 
ket. Sales  of  middling  at  forty-two  cents 
Saltpetre  advanced  fifteen  cents. 

The  Northern  press  universal  for  war.  They 
say  that  the  British  lion  must  be  humbled  by  the 
United  States. 

They  say  that  the  war  is  inevitable. 


94  PEISON-LIFE   AT    RICHMOND. 

The  effect  of  such  a  thunderbolt  upon  us  can  scarcely 
be  imagined.  Eemoved  from  all  sources  of  informa- 
tion except  through  Confederate  channels,  and  thirst- 
ing for  any  facts,  however  trifling,  that  related  to  our 
government  and  its  policy,  we  read  the  extra  with  con- 
flicting opinions  of  doubt  and  belief.  How  threadbare 
we  wore  every  argument, pro  and  con,  on  the  subject! 
How  that  little  knot  of  officers  at  the  window  actually 
writhed  in  earnest  discussion !  Any  expression  of 
opinion — no  matter  from  whom — caused  'eager  eyes  to 
gaze  upon  the  speaker,  and  his  words  to  be  absorbed 
by  attentive  ears.  Well  do  we  remember  how,  when 
discussion  had  exhausted  itself,  a  wag  turned  towards 
that  lexicon  of  all  knowledge,  "  Hart  on  Exchange," 
and  solemnly  sought  from  its  pages  a  solution  of  our 
doubts.  The  oracle  spoke : — 

"Gentlemen,  if  this  extra  be  true,  our  government 
will  want  her  soldiers ;  exchange  will  take  place : 
hence,  we  pronounce  it  truth." 

The  volume  closed  its  thumbed  page  and  went  to  its 
supper  of  bread  and  molasses. 

We  received  with  emotions  of  ecstasy  the  confirma- 
tion of  the  news  of  the  Federal  victory  at  Somerset, 
Kentucky,  on  the  20th  of  January.  Our  feelings  of 
pleasure  were  heightened  by  the  evident  depressing 
effect  of  the  intelligence  upon  "  Secessia"  generally, 
and  upon  our  jailers  in  particular. 

The  daily  press  of  Richmond  informed  us  that  the 
defeat  was  much  more  disastrous  to  the  Confederates 
than  Northern  accounts  had  detailed,  admitting  a  loss 
of  five  hundred  killed  and  wounded,  many  prisoners, 
with  the  entire  munitions  of  war,  camp-equipage,  and 
artillery  of  General  Crittenden's  command. 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  95 

We  were  assured,  from  scrutinizing  the  papers,  and 
from  observation  generally  of  characters  and  persons 
connected  with  and  visiting  the  prison,  that  a  serious 
defeat  would  cripple  the  sinews  of  the  Kebellion,  and 
lead  to  a  dissolution  of  the  vaunted  unanimity  of  Se- 
cession sentiment  represented  to  exist  throughout  the 
South.  Their  defeat  at  Drainsville  lessened  the  ardor 
of  newspaper  sensation-articles,  while  that  at  Somerset, 
Kentucky,  produced  columns  of  contradictory  edito- 
rials, of  vapid  boasting,  and  of  imbecile  threats  of 
future  revenge. 

Amid  the  mass  of  invectives  against  the  "  Yankees" 
and  against  their  own  general  who  lost  the  battle  of 
Somerset,  the  following  will  show  the  wavering  pulse 
of  Eichmond,  with  its  unanimity  on  the  great  Ee- 
bellion : — 

(From  the  "Richmond  Enquirer,"  January  24,  1862.) 

"  We  learn  that  on  yesterday,  in  consequence  of  the 
news  of  the  battle  in  Kentucky,  the  applications  for 
passports  to  '  go  North'  were  much  more  numerous 
than  usual.  Five  applied  where  one  did  before.  Let 
such  people  go.  We  can  well  afford  to  dispense  with 
the  luxury  of  their  presence." 

We  determined  to  enjoy  Christmas,  as  far  as  possible, 
according  to  our  "  auld  lang  syne"  remembrances,  and 
on  Christmas-eve  active  preparations  were  made  for 
the  celebration  of  the  day.  Sundry  sly  nudges  and 
knowing  twinkles  of  the  eye  bade  the  writer  glance 
towards  the  nearest  mess-table.  On  it  lay  a  turkey, 
bunches  of  celery,  cranberries,  four  pies,  and  half  a 
dozen  contraband  bottles.  An  unusual  bustle  among 


96  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

the  stewards  gave  token  of  a  mighty  feast  on  the  mor- 
row :'  the  old  darkey  who  runs  the  errands  of  the 
officers  was  big  with  importance ;  and,  as  he  passed 
in  and  out  every  few  moments,  it  was  evident  that 
"  Yankee"  gold  was  gladdening  the  hearts  of  Secessia. 

Gliding  on  with  unusual  merriment,  the  evening 
closed,  according  to  our  "Hoosier,"  with  "hearty  good 
songs  and  jolly  good  stories  from  merry  good  fellows." 
The  morning  opened  with  sixty  voices  greeting,  "A 
happy  Christmas !"  and  bright  faces  and  glad  voices 
seemed  to  illumine  the  old  walls,  for  they  looked  less 
chilling,  and  gave  back  our  shouts  with  a  clearer  tone 
than  ever  before. 

As  the  hours  rolled  on,  turkeys  were  prepared  for 
the  adjacent  bakery,  cranberries  put  on  to  stew,  and 
busy  stewards  were  seen  flying  about,  bustling  over 
their  manifold  household  duties. 

The  morning  sped  on  with  narrative  and  reminis- 
cences. This  one  and  that  one,  each  and  all,  had  per- 
sonal sketches  of  an  old  Christmas  spent  at  home, — rich 
scenes  of  frolic  and  rollicking  incidents,  told  with  im- 
petuous gayety,  or  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  a  home 
Christmas  at  the  family  board,  surrounded  by  a  che- 
rished and  oft-remembered  group  of  loved  ones.  Many 
officers  invited  to  their  Christmas-dinner  a  non-com- 
missioned officer  of  their  company;  and  as  we  sat 
around  the  mess-table,  covered  with  tin  crockery  and 
steaming  with  our  costly  meal,  we  presented  a  perfect 
picture  of  democratic  luxury. 

What  cared  we  for  prison-walls  ? — had  we  not  tur- 
key for  dinner  ?  What  cared  we  for  blockades  ? — had 
we  not  home-luxuries  ?  What  if  gold  was  at  fifty  per 


PKISON-INCIDENTS.  97 

cent,  premium  ? — did  not  ours  pass  at  prison-bars,  and 
yield  us  six  bottles  of  "  contraband  "? 

After  the  cloth  (which  consisted  of  four  "  Richmond 
Enquirers")  was  removed,  we  pledged  our  country  and 
our  cause,  our  friends  and  loved  ones,  in  bumpers  of 
feeling,  yet  in  moderation;  for  Virginia  whiskey,  to 
one  having  a  palate,  is  medicine  and  cure  for  all  excess. 
Arising  from  the  table,  the  hours,  as  usual,  were  passed 
in  conversation,  reading,  &c. 

But  it  soon  became  apparent  that  Christinas  was 
being  celebrated  outside,  as  well  as  within,  the  walls. 
The  report  spread  throughout  the  room  that  our  guards 
were  in  an  intoxicated  state,  and  that  few  were  able  to 
discriminate  properly  between  friend  and  foe.  Such  a 
condition  of  things  caused  much  amusement,  and  we 
crowded  to  the  window  to  get  a  sight  of  the  muddled 
sentinels,  and  laughed  until  weary  at  the  ludicrous 
idea  of  being  guarded  by  the  drunken  soldiers  of 
Secessia. 

In  a  few  moments  a  brother-officer  whispered  to  the 
writer,  "  Taylor's  out;"  a  moment  elapsed,  and  again, 
"  Wallace  is  out ;"  a  short  interval,  and  again,  "  McPher- 
son's  out ;"  until  he  actually  believed  that  the  whole 
building  would  be  deserted;  when,  not  relishing  the 
idea  of  being  the  sole  occupant  of  the  immense  prison, 
he  drew  on  his  heavy  coat,  and,  passing  to  the  outer 
door,  motioned  to  the  sentinel,  with  all  of  a  Confederate 
officer's  hauteur,  to  lift  his  musket, — which  was  done, 
and  once  more  the  writer  felt  his  lungs  expand  with 
free  air. 

Thoroughly  at  a  loss  where  to  direct  his  steps,  and 
knowing  it  to  be  impossible  to  escape  during  mid-win- 
ter, he  wandered  up  Main  Street,  looking  around  him, 


98  PEISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

and  feeling  like  a  countryman  upon  his  first  visit  to  a 
great  city. 

He  walked  through  the  streets  adjacent  to  the  ware- 
house, and  saw  crowds  of  people,  clouds  of  darkeys, 
drunken  soldiers  sans  number,  (by-the-by,  whiskey 
and  the  blockade  will  crush  the  Eebellion,)  a  rainbow- 
group  of  Confederate  officers,  a  fat  woman,  and  a  silver 
half-dollar  with  a  crowd  around  it ;  but,  fearing  that 
his  unceremonious  walk,  if  known,  might  compromise 
the  future  privileges  of  his  brother-officers,  he  bent 
his  steps  towards  the  prison,  where  with  a  magisterial 
motion  of  the  hand  he  caused  the  musket  to  give  way, 
and  passed  into  the  familiar  halls,  absent  one  hour. 

One  by  one  the  excursionists  returned ;  but  it  was 
not  until  eleven  o'clock  at  night  that  all  were  again 
under  the  protection  of  the  drunken  guards. 

During  the  evening,  a  Federal  officer,  who  is  noted 
for  quaint  drollery  and  waggish  humor,  approached  the 
sentinel  at  the  door  and  proposed  to  stand  guard,  stating 
that  he  desired  the  soldier  to  purchase  for  him  a  can- 
teen of  liquor.  To  our  astonishment,  the  proposal  was 
accepted ;  and  amid  the  chapter  of  startling  Christmas- 
events  must  be  recorded  the  fact  that  the  Federal  pri- 
soners of  war  in  Richmond  were  guarded  on  Christmas, 
with  the  consent  of  a  Confederate  sentinel,  by  a  United 
States  officer,  a  prisoner  of  war.  In  a  short  time  the 
guard  returned,  and  was  liberally  endowed  with  the 
"contraband"  that  he  had  so  patriotically  earned. 

Many  will  think  it  singular,  on  perusing  these  de- 
tails 'of  the  loose  system  of  guard-mounting,  that  we 
did  not  escape,  and,  by  travelling  through  the  country, 
reach  the  Federal  lines.  They  will,  however,  bear  in 
mind  that  it  was  mid-winter;  that  Richmond  was  one 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  99 

hundred  miles  from  any  United  States  forces ;  that  the 
route  taken  would  necessarily  have  been  through  an 
enemy's  country ;  that  night  was  the  only  time  when 
progress  could  be  made,  which  must  have  been  through 
the  woods,  and  not  on  frequented  roads;  that  the 
weather  was  so  severe  that  sleep  in  the  open  air  would 
have  been  impossible ;  and  that,  owing  to  the  country 
being  filled  with  fugitive  slaves,  constant  patrols  crowded 
every  avenue  of  escape. 

During  the  summer,  attempts  were  made  to  escape. 
A  few  succeeded,  but  many  were  arrested  in  their  pro- 
gress through  the  country.  Had  Christmas  occurred  on 
the  Fourth  of  July,  the  old  Tobacco  Warehouse  on  that 
day  would  have  been  deserted. 

Christmas  closed  with  much  quiet  enjoyment.  "We 
had  the  usual  pastimes, — cards,  backgammon,  checkers, 
&c.,  and  the  inseparable  concomitant  of  Christmas- 
sports, — egg-nog.  And  such  egg-nog ! — made  without 
milk.  Reader,  did  you  ever  imbibe  the  poor  man's 
nog?  It  will  become  the  drink  of  "Secessia"  in  a  few 
years,  if  pork  continue  as  scarce,  salt  as  high,  and 
milch-cow  beef  be  consumed  as  rapidly  as  at  present. 

Richmond-prison  egg-nog  is  made  as  follows,  viz.: 
half  a  pint  of  water,  four  eggs,  half  a  pint  of  whiskey 
or  brandy,  nutmeg  and  sugar  according  to  taste.  Take  a 
half-gallon  measure ;  put  in  the  water  and  eggs,  with  egg 
beaten ;  bring  the  mixture  to  a  lightness  sufficient  to 
fill  the  measure.  When  done,  pour  in  brandy  and  season 
at  will,  and  you  have  a  delicious  egg-nog,  without  its 
usual  deleterious  qualities. 

As  a  matter  of  record,  we  insert  the  following  bill  of 
a  Christmas-dinner  for  a  mess  of  six  in  the  Richmond 
Tobacco  Warehouse :  Turkey,  $3.00 ;  cooking  turkey, 


100  PRISON-LIFE   AT    RICHMOND. 

50  cents ;  2  quarts  of  cranberries,  50  cents ;  1  peck  of 
potatoes,  50  cents ;  1  pound  of  butter,  60  cents;  2  quarts 
of  oysters,  60  cents ;  2  pounds  of  sugar,  40  cents ;  1  quart 
of  onions,  25  cents;  2  quarts  of  milk,  25  cents;  4  pies, 
40  cents;  2  bottles  common  brandy,  $3.00;  1  dozen  eggs, 
37J  cents.  Total,  $10.37J. 

New-Year's  day  was  passed  without  incident,  ex- 
cept the  usual  drunkenness  of  guards  and  the  conse- 
quent outside  excursion  of  one  of  our  number,  who, 
unfortunately,  was  met  in  the  street  by  a  Confederate 
officer  connected  with  the  prisons.  On  the  next  day 
he  was  ironed.  Yet  when  the  officer  of  the  day  left  the 
room  they  were  removed ;  and  so  loose  is  the  system 
pursued,  that  the  officer  in  charge  on  the  ensuing  day 
was  ignorant  of  the  entire  matter.  The  Federal  prisoner 
is  free  from  irons,  and  will,  probably,  when  released, 
carry  them  North  as  a  relic  of  his  imprisonment. 

The  day  succeeding  New- Year,  the  officer  of  the 
day — familiarly  known  as  Yankee-Killer,  alias  Bowie- 
Knife,  alias  Emack — came  into  the  officers'  room  and 
proceeded  to  examine  every  iron  bar  in  the  windows. 
After  shaking  each  with  a  determined  and  vigorous 
grasp,  he  was  passing  out,  when  information  was  given 
him  that  the  window  in  the  north,  behind  a  huge  pile 
of  boards  and  machinery,  was  minus  a  bar.  This  was 
done  to  shield  our  drunken  friends  the  sentinels.  He 
clambered  with  difficulty  upon  the  dirty  lumber,  and,, 
after  many  bruises  and  to  the  detriment  of  his  unmen- 
tionables, succeeded  in  finding  the  window,  with  shutters 
closed,  but  a  bar  removed,  leaving  a  space  large  enough 
to  pass  a  Kentucky  giant.  We  will  not  soon  forget  his 
smile  of  rewarded  energy  as  he  passed  from  the  building 
and  commanded  loudly  that  the  window  should  be  im- 


PRISON-INCIDENTS,  101 

mediately  boarded  from  the  outside.  The  bar  had  been 
removed  during  the  early  period  of  prison-life,  and 
had  remained  three  months  without  discovery.  No 
doubt,  as  each  nail  was  driven  into  that  shutter,  our 
jailers  imagined  they  had  riveted  another  shackle  on 
the  mischievous  Yankees ;  but  it  had  never  been  used, 
and  never  would  be  as  long  as  whisky  is  a  native  product 
of  Virginia  and  is  accessible  to  their  stalwart  soldiers. 

HOSTAGES. 

On  Sunday,  November  10,  1861,  General  John  H. 
"Winder,  commanding  the  Department  of  Eichmond, 
accompanied  by  his  staff,  was  observed  to  alight  at  the 
prison-office.  It  being  an  unusual  occurrence  for  his 
visits  to  be  attended  with  such  ceremony,  much  sur- 
mise arose  as  to  its  cause  and  consequences ;  but  we 
readily  believed  that  it  portended  evil,  as  his  visits 
invariably  curtailed  our  restricted  prison-privileges. 
A  few  moments  elapsed,  and  he  entered  the  building, 
attended  by  the  staff,  in  full-dress  uniform.  Directing 
one  of  them  to  clear  the- room  of  all  persons  excepting 
the  Federal  officers,  he  took  a  position  in  the  centre  of 
the  floor  and  announced  that  he  had  a  most  unpleasant 
duty  to  perform.  He  then  read  the  following  order 
from  the  Confederate  War  Department : — 

"C.  S.  WAR  DEPARTMENT, 

"  RICHMOND,  November  8,  1861. 

"SiR: — You  are  hereby  instructed  to  choose  by  lot, 
from  among  the  prisoners  of  war  of  the  highest  rank, 
one  who  is  to  be  confined  in  a  cell  appropriated  to  con- 
victed felons,  and  who  is  to  be  treated  in  all  respects 
as  if  such  convict,  and  to  be  held  for  execution  in  the 


102  PRISON-LIFE    AT    RICHMOND. 

same  manner  as  may  be  adopted  by  the  enemy  for  the 
execution  of  the  prisoner  of  war  Smith,  recently  con- 
demned to  death  in  Philadelphia.  You  will  also  select 
thirteen  other  prisoners  of  war,  the  highest  in  rank 
of  those  captured  by  our  forces,  to  be  confined  in  the 
cells  reserved  for  prisoners  accused  of  infamous  crimes, 
and  will  treat  them  as  such  so  long  as  the  enemy  shall 
continue  so  to  treat  the  like  number  of  prisoners  of 
war  captured  by  them  at  sea  and  now  for  trial  in  New 
York  as  pirates.  As  these  measures  are  intended  to 
repress  the  infamous  attempt  now  made  by  the  enemy 
to  commit  judicial  murder  on  prisoners  of  war,  you 
will  execute  them  strictly,  as  the  mode  best  calculated 
to  prevent  the  commission  of  so  heinous  a  crime. 
"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"  J.  P.  BENJAMIN, 

"  Acting  Sec.  of  War. 

"To  Brig.-Gen.  JOHN  H.  WINDER,  Richmond,  Va." 

Announcing  that  it  was  necessary  to  draw  by  lot  five 
of  the  Federal  colonels  and  prisoners  of  war  to  be  held 
as  hostages  for  Smith,  General  Winder  caused  the  names 
of  the  officers  to  be  written  on  separate  slips  of  paper, 
which  were  placed  in  a  tin  case,  from  which  Hon.  Mr. 
Ely  was  requested  to  draw  one  of  the  names.  It  proved 
to  be  that  of  Colonel  Michael  Corcoran,  of  the  69th 
Kegiment  New  York  State  Militia. 

General  Winder  then  stated  that,  as  only  ten  Federal 
field  officers  were  held  as  prisoners  of  war,  the  cap- 
tains would  be  chosen  by  lot,  to  complete  the  required 
quota  of  hostages.  Captains  Rockwood,  Ricketts,  and 
McQuaid  were  chosen. 

With  imperfect  information,  and  indistinct  hearing 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  10S 

of  the  order  as  read,  we  looked  on  in  silence  during 
the  ceremony.  But,  as  the  names  of  Colonels  Lee  and 
Cogswell  were  called,  under  whose  command  we  had 
stood  upon  the  battle-field,  and  for  whom  respect, 
admiration,  and  esteem  were  blended  in  our  hearts,  sad- 
ness, sorrow,  and  sympathy  were  displayed  in  the  fea- 
tures of  every  member  of  that  little  crowd.  Yet  when 
we  saw  the  cheerful  countenance  of  Colonel  Lee  and  the 
quiet  equanimity  of  Colonel  Cogswell  undisturbed,  the 
shadow  of  portending  evil  seemed  to  disappear. 

When  General  Winder  and  his  aids  left  the  room, 
we  gathered  in  groups,  eagerly  discussing  the  princi- 
ples of  the  policy,  its  bearing,  causes,  and  effects ;  and, 
ere  the  day  closed,  we  looked  upon  the  subject  with 
increasing  cheerfulness  and  confidence,  fully  believing 
that  our  government  would  not  allow  those  veteran 
officers  to  be  long  confined  in  a  felon's  cell,  or  to  suffer  a 
felon's  doom. 

On  the  12th  of  January  General  Winder  again  visited 
us,  and  held  another  drawing,  to  choose  two  officers  in 
lieu  of  Captains  Ricketts  and  McQuaid,  who  were 
wounded  at  Manassas,  and  who  at  the  time  of  drawing 
were  confined  by  their  wounds  to  the  hospital.  Captains 
Bowman  and  Keffer  were  chosen, — making  the  list  of 
hostages  complete  as  follows,  viz. : — 

Col.  Michael  Corcoran,  69th  Regiment  N.  Y.  State  Militia. 

'     M.  Cogswell,  42d  Regiment  N.  Y.  State  Volunteers. 

«     W.  Raymond  Lee,  20th  Regiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers. 

'     W.  E.  Woodruff,  2d  Regiment  Kentucky  Volunteers. 

«     A.  M.  Wood,  14th  Regiment  New  York  State  Militia. 

'     Orlando  B.  Wilcox,  1st  Regiment  Michigan  Volunteers. 

Lieut. -Col.  G.  W.  Neff,  2d  Regiment  Kentucky  " 

"          Saml.  Bowman,  8th  Regiment  Pennsylvania     " 

Major  Jas.  D.  Porter,  38th  Regiment  New  York         " 


104  PRISON-LIFE    AT    RICHMOND. 

Major  T.  J.  Revere,  20th  Regiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers. 

"      Israel  Vogdes,  United  States  Artillery. 

Capt.  Henry  Bowman,  15th  Regiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers. 

"     Geo.  W.  Rockwood,  "             "                     "                 " 

"     Francis  J.  Keffer,  Colonel  Baker's  California  Regiment. 

The  hostages,  one  and  all,  bore  themselves  with 
manly  pride  and  hardy  patriotism,  willing  to  suffer 
whenever  and  wherever  the  interests  of  their  govern- 
ment required  the  sacrifice. 

On  the  14th  of  November  we  were  called  upon  to 
bid  them  farewell.  As  they  passed  from  the  room,  we 
grasped  each  hand  in  silence;  for,  though  the  heart  was 
steeled  and  the  purpose  steady,  we  could  not,  without 
emotions  of  heartfelt  sympathy,  see  gray  hairs,  honored 
at  home,  and  young  spirits  flashing  but  a  month  ago  in 
the  eager  strife  of  war,  go  to  a  prison-cell. 

They  were  confined  in  Eichmond  jail;  and  weeks 
elapsed  before  we  were  enabled  to  learn  their  condition 
and  the  circumstances  of  their  imprisonment, — the  jailer 
having  been  ordered  by  General  Winder  to  allow  "  none 
— not  even  myself — to  visit  them,  except  through  writ- 
ten authority  from  the  War  Department." 

When  Mr.  Faulkner  returned  from  the  North,  in 
December,  he  visited  them,  and,  %  earnest  representa- 
tions to  the  authorities,  obtained  a  relaxation  of  these 
orders  to  the  extent  of  permitting  the  officer  com- 
manding the  prison  to  visit  them  weekly.  For  nearly 
two  months  they  were  not  allowed  to  communicate  in 
person  with  their  subordinate  officers.  Finally,  owing 
to  authentic  information  from  the  North,  affirming  {he 
comparative  comfort  of  the  privateers,  permission  was 
granted  Adjutant  Pearson,  of  the  20th  Massachusetts 
Begiment,  Mr.  Ely,  and  Lieutenant  C.  M.  Hooper,  of 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  105 

the  California  Regiment,  to  visit  them  from  time  to 
time. 

The  cell  in  which,  seven  in  number,  they  are  con- 
fined, is  seventeen  feet  long  by  eleven  feet  wide. 
It  has  two  windows,  each  twenty-four  inches  square, 
protected  by  transverse  iron  bars,  opening  upon  a 
high  wall  enclosing  the  prison's  narrow  yard,  affording 
them  only  six  hours  of  daylight  in  which  to  read  and 
write;  and  to  do  either  at  any  hour  of  the  day,  it  is 
necessary  for  them  to  cluster  closely  around  the  win- 
dows. Previous  to  leaving  the  warehouse,  they  pur- 
chased camp-cots  of  the  smallest  size,  which  when 
spread  out  at  night  entirely  occupy  the  cell  in  the 
prison,  leaving  no  space  to  move  around.  In  the 
morning  they  are  allowed  to  remove  the  cots  to  the 
corridor,  and  the  rough  pine  benches  which  they  occupy 
during  the  day,  and  which  are  removed  at  night/ 
clutter  up  the  room  to  such  an  extent  that  the  usual 
prison-privilege  of  pacing  the  floor  is  denied  them. 
They  are  allowed  twenty  minutes  each  in  the  morning 
and  afternoon  to  exercise  in  the  prison-yard,  four  feet 
wide,  extending  around  the  building,  which  is  of  square 
form  and  massive  structure.  They  are  furnished  tha 
usual  jail-rations,  consisting  of  bacon  and  corn  bread, 
— unfit  to  be  eaten, — and  are  not  permitted  to  supply 
their  table  with  food  at  their  own  expense.  Yet,  find- 
ing their  jailer  not  insensible  to  bribes,  they  have  pur- 
chased from  him  the  privilege  of  buying  food,  which  he 
has  cooked,  and  serves  to  them  at  a  stipulated  price  per 
day.  This  jailer  is  a  coarse,  ruffianly,  drunken  sot,  who 
reads  their  private  letters  before  delivery,  and  proclaims 
their  domestic  affairs  throughout  the  sinks  and  brothels 
of  Richmond.  On  one  occasion,  delivering  a  letter  to 


106  PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND. 

one  of.  them,  he  remarked,  "  Colonel,  your  wife  writes  in 
fine  spirits :  keep  yours  up." 

Below  the  room  occupied  by  the  hostages  are  two 
cells,  constantly  filled  by  drunken  negroes,  white  felons, 
and  criminal  women  of  every  color  and  caste,  min- 
gling together  in  filth,  stench,  and  vermin.  In  one  cell 
— the  same  in  size  as  that  of  the  hostages — four  negro 
women  and  fourteen  children  are  confined.  Their  hus- 
bands and  parents  being  within  the  Federal  lines,  they 
were  removed  to  Eichmond  for  safe-keeping. 

The  stench  from  these  cells  rises  to  that  of  the 
hostages,  making  the  atmosphere  nauseating  and  stifling 
at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  The  jail-yard 
is  used  for  whipping  the  negroes  of  Kichmond,  and 
the  spot  selected  is  usually  under  the  windows  of  this 
cell, — where  they  hear  the  agonized  yells  of  the  poor 
negroes  almost  'daily.  The  building  is  filled  with  body- 
vermin;  and  at  night  it  is  sometimes  impossible  to  sleep, 
owing  to  the  ^rats  scampering  incessantly  over  their 
beds.  Other  privations — too  disgusting  for  these  pages 
— are  endured  by  them,  making  the  heart  sick  at  the 
contemplation  of  their  brutal  treatment. 

Strong  representations,  we  understood,  were  made 
by  Mr.  Faulkner  for  an  amelioration  of  their  con- 
dition, which  produced  the  reply,  "that  no  better 
quarters  could  be  furnished,  as  the  authorities  had  no 
better." 

As  information  was  received  by  us  of  the  sufferings 
and  privations  of  the  hostages,  it  elicited  from  all  the 
deepest  sympathy,  and  produced  among  many  an  anti- 
pathy amounting  to  personal  bitterness  towards  our 
jailers. 

We  saw  guarding  us  men  who  looked  on  refinement 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  107 

of  manners  and  the  polished  amenities  of  civilized  life 
as  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  existence, — whose  barred 
banners  were  flaunted  in  the  breeze  to  gain  disenthral- 
ment  from  "  the  low,  vulgar,  and  disgusting  habitudes 
of  the  Yankees/'  and  yet  whose  lives,  aims,  and  purposes 
were  but  as  "  one  vast  and  living  lie."  The  proof  existed 
in  Kichmond  prison.  And  a  few  years  hence,  if  success 
attend  their  efforts,  the  crushed  liberties  of  the  poor 
Southern  white  will  attest  the  polished  amenities  and 
courtly  "  habitudes"  of  a  centralized  and  monarchical 
government. 

It  is  cheering  to  know  that  sympathy  for  the  host- 
ages did  not  expend  itself  in  vapid  and  useless  re- 
pinings.  Seven  warm  hearts  nobly  responded  to  the 
promptings  of  sympathy.  An  earnest  and  affecting 
petition  to  the  Confederate  War  Department  was 
drawn  up,  soliciting  the  substitution  of  the  names  sub- 
scribed in  lieu  of  those  already  confined  as  hostages.  It 
represented  the  increasing  ill  health  o|  those  officers, 
alluded  to  their  age  and  to  their  superiority  in  rank 
to  privateers,  contrasted  their  condition  and  treatment 
with  that  of  the  latter,  and  concluded  with  a  warm 
appeal,  based  upon  humanity,  for  the  privilege  of  being 
held  as  substitutes  for  the  hostages,  TKe  names  of  the 
young  officers  who  so  freely  proffered  themselves  as 
substitutes  are  as  follow : — 


Captain  John  Markoe,  Colonel  Baker's  California  Regiment. 

Adjutant  Chas.  J.  Pearson,  20th  Regiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers. 

Lieut.  Wm.  E.  Merrill,  United  States  Engineers. 

"      Geo.  B.  Perry,  20th  Regiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers. 

"      J.  Harris  Hooper,  15th         "                     "                   " 

"      J.  E.  Greene,  "           "                    "                  " 

"      Chas.  M.  Hooper,  Colonel  Baker's  California  Regiment. 


108  PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND.    . 

In  a  few  days  a  verbal  and  monosyllabic  reply  came, 
— "No." 

On  the  4th  of  January  we  were  astounded  by  the 
pleasing  intelligence  that  the  hostages  would  be  re- 
stored to  the  warehouse;  and  there  was  not  a  heart 
within  the  walls  that  did  not  respond  to  the  shouts  of 
congratulation  that  resounded  throughout  the  ware- 
house. 

On  the  morning  of  the  5th  we  were  on  the  rest- 
less qui  vive  of  expectation;  but  this  day  was  destined 
to  be  one  of  incidents.  At  eleven  o'clock  we  were 
startled  by  an  alarm  of  fire  upon  the  officers'  floor, 
and  a  small  portion  of  the  ceiling  in  the  northeastern 
corner  of  the  room  was  discovered  to  be  in  flames, 
having  caught  from  a  stove  in  the  upper  floor.  One 
of  the  Federal  officers  immediately  rushed  up-stairs, 
where,  to  his  astonishment,  he  found  the  privates 
gathered  around  the  flames,  some  looking  on  uncon- 
cernedly, others  with  faces  in  which  every  feature 
expressed  delight,  whilst  many  were  running  around 
the  room  acting  firemen,  bellowing  through  their 
hands  closed  for  speaking-trumpets,  "Turn  on  the 
water,  Columbia  Hose!"  "Take  that  plug  on  the 
corner!"  "Haul  up  that  section  of  hose!"  &c.  &c., 
yet  not  making  the  slightest  efforts  to  arrest  the 
flames;  and  it  was  not  until  after  repeated  orders 
that  the  officers  succeeded  in  having  the  fire  extin- 
guished. The  poor  fellows  wanted  a  little  fun  mixed 
with  their  monotonous  misery.  In  a  few  moments  after 
the  alarm,  crowds  commenced  gathering  around  the 
building,  hose-carriages  and  engines,  in  hot  haste,  ar- 
rived, with  sweating  negroes,  gasping  white  men,  and 
screeching  boys  tugging  at  the  ropes.  The  alarm  had 


PRISON-INCIDENTS.  109 

spread  broadcast  over  the  town  that  "  the  Yankees 
had  set  fire  to  their  prison  and  were  trying  to 
escape,"  and  Eichmond  had  yielded  up  her  hosts  to 
prevent  so  dire  a  calamity.  The  crowd  increased 
until  the  street  was  packed,  every  one  glaring  at  the 
warehouse  as  if  he  thought  it  contained  all  the  evil  of 
Satan's  abode. 

The  commandant  at  the  post,  with  the  Fire  Com- 
missioner of  Eichmond,  inspected  the  building,  ex- 
amined the  progress  of  the  flames, — three  inches  in 
diameter, — visited  the  upper  floor,  minutely  and  magis- 
terially superintended  the  placing  of  an  extra  piece  of 
sheet  iron  under  the  stove,  and  left  the  warehouse  to 
its  occupants.  The  crowd,  seeing  them  leave  the  build- 
ing, commenced  to  disperse. 

At  this  moment  we  were  started  by  three  loud 
cheers,  given  with  a  will  by  the  privates  in  an  adjacent 
warehouse.  We  rushed  to  the  windows,  and  saw  the 
hostages  approaching  the  prison.  In  a  few  moments 
they  entered. 

Can  we  ever  forget  the  scene  that  ensued  ?  It  can- 
not be  described.  Its  hearty  gladness  would  have  re- 
paid, almost,  for  a  lifetime  of  suffering.  How  genuine 
that  warm  grasp  of  the  hand,  that  cry  of  welcome  and 
delight !  The  pale  features  of  the  hostages  seemed  to 
light  up  with  sensations  of  pride  and  gratitude  at  the 
greeting  of  affection  and  sympathy;  and,  as  the  little 
band  clustered  around  them  when  the  first  flush  of 
welcome  was  over,  and  listened  to  their  narration  of 
daily  sufferings  and  privations,  the  scene  presented  a 
picture  honorable  to  the  manhood  and  creditable  to  the 
heart  of  every  officer  present. 

Ere  the  day  closed,  they -had  become  domesticated, 


110  PRISON-LIFE   AT   KICHMOND. 

sought  out  their  old  sleeping-quarters,  and  arrangec 
their  prison-wardrobe  in  and  around  the  tobacco 
presses. 

As  yet,  they  were  not  assured  of  their  permanen' 
release  as  hostages,  having  been  informed  by  th< 
authorities  that  their  removal  from  jail  was  merel) 
temporary,  and  arose  from  the  necessity  of  cleansing 
and  fumigating  the  prison-cells.  Subsequent  informa- 
tion through  the  Eichmond  papers  of  the  release  of 
the  privateers  in  the  North  confirmed  us  in  the  beliei 
that  we  should  have  them  with  us  until  sent,  rejoicing 
"  homeward  bound." 


SUNDAY    IN   PKISON.  Ill 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SUNDAY   IN   PEISON. 

December  8,  1861. — A  bright  and  beautiful  day, — 
blue  skies,  and  changing  clouds  throwing  their  chasing 
shadows  through  the  iron  bars.  Above  and  around  us 
breathes  the  holy  calm  of  the  Sabbath.  Its  softened 
beauty  mellows  each  heart  within  our  prison-home; 
for  it  is  an  hour  devoted  to  the  past,  whose  sweet 
influences  are  all  our  own. 

Ye  who,  in  the  full  flush  of  life,  wander  hither  and 
thither  through  the  paths  of  freedom,  heart  upon  the 
lip,  with  slightest  thought  unfolded  to  thy  brother, — 
for  whom  the  great  world  is  open  to  sense  and  soul, 
its  keen  enjoyments,  its  high  ennobling  pursuits,  filling 
thy  life  with  wealth  of  love,  honor,  and  ambition, 
— we  envy  you  not  on  this  holy  day ;  for  the  rough 
walls  around  us,  drear  and  chilling  to  the  eye,  bring 
to  the  mind  many  welcome  hours  of  deep  meditation. 

We  stand  at  the  open  window  and  glance  towards 
the  south.  Almost  at  our  feet  flow  onward  to  the  sea 
the  calm  waters  of  the  James  River.  Imagination 
pictures  its  glad  embrace  with  the  dancing  billows  of 
the  free  and  open  sea.  Behold  yon  charred  and  limb- 
less log  floating  sluggishly  down  the  stream  :  no  circ- 
ling eddies  nor  hidden  rock  disturb  its  onward  course ; 
it  is  borne  by  the  current  on,  ever  on ;  and  we  turn 


112  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

sadly  away,  for  yonder  waters  bear  it  oceanward 
towards  our  home  and  friends. 

Looking  westward  and  to  the  north,  a  plain  of  some 
miles  in  extent  may  be  seen,  edged  by  dense  woods, 
beyond  which  the  shadowy  outlines  of  continuous  hills 
present  daily  a  mirage  of  gloom. 

Rich  fields,  cosy  old  farm-houses,  dot  the  open  plain ; 
whilst  on  the  winding  country  road  a  fat  negro  may 
be  seen  lazily  lounging  in  the  sun,  astride  a  diminutive 
mule,  leisurely  returning  from  his  master's  town- 
errand. 

-  Over  that  plain,  through  those  dense  woods,  across 
those  shadowy  hills,  lie  all  that  we  hold  dear  on  earth, 
— our  country  and  our  homes. 

We  cross  the  room  and  look  out  upon  the  open 
street.  It  is  now  ten  o'clock.  The  solemn  clang  of 
church-bells  comes  through  the  bars,  and  family  groups 
are  seen,  prayer-books  under  arm, — little  chubby- 
cheeked  children,  looking  like  toys,  led  leaping  by  the 
hands, — gaudy  servant-girls,  with  ruddy  glow  of  health 
and  brawny  hands  cased  in  kid, — the  old  darkey,  with 
silvered  head  and  bending  form,  trudging  after  his 
mistress, — the  rainbow-robed  mulatto  belle,  with 
springy  step  and  wagging  skirts.  All  stop  to  look  at 
the  Yankees. 

On  the  Sabbath  we  receive  our  outside  visitors. 

The  windows  of  the  warehouse  are  nearly  level  with 
the  street :  so  we  welcome  our  visitors  on  an  equal 
footing,  barring  the  grating  between.  A  sentry  paces 
to  and  fro  before  the  window,  whose  duty  it  is  to  keep 
them  at  a  respectful  distance — ten  feet — from  the  bars. 
Come,  and  we  will  introduce  you  to  them,  one  and  all. 


SUNDAY   IN   PRISON.  113 

We  know  not  their  names  or  residences;  but  the  ac- 
quaintance has  been  long,  and  socially  we  are  on  a 
pretty  good  footing  with  them. 

That  slender  young  man  in  gray  coat,  blue  panta- 
loons, gold  braid,  and  tight  boots,  with  upper  lip  suggest- 
ive of  moustaches,  is  one  of  the  jailers  of  the  Yankees. 
With  unbending  form,  and  hands  clasped  behind  him, 
he  is  holding  a  subdued  conversation  with  an  elderly 
gentleman ;  and,  as  they  stand  upon  the  pavement,  we 
can  easily  imagine  that  the  old  gentleman  has  mod- 
estly inquired  concerning  the  mode  of  treatment  used 
towards  the  Yankees, — whether  they  are  ever  unruly, 
and  if  it  is  necessary  to  shoot  a  few  of  them  to  keep 
them  in  order,  or  if  the  death  of  a  few  "  Yankees,"  of 
which  he  has  heard,  merely  arose  from  the  frolicsome 
disposition  of  some  good-natured  sentinel  who  desired 
to  relieve  the  monotony  of  his  tedious  duty  by  shooting 
at  a  mark. 

Our  slender  official  very  kindly  informs  him  that 
they  have  but  little  trouble  with  the  "  Yankees,"  as  the 
flash  of  a  Southern  blade  is  terror  to  the  Northern 
heart;  and  that  the  occasional  cases  of  shooting 
that  had  occurred  were  purely  accidental,  although,  as 
an  example,  the  inhumanity  of  the  act  was  at  least 
neutralized  by  its  good  results. 

The  simple,  good  old  gentleman  goes  home  to  his 
family  and  pays  his  war-tax  willingly,  satisfied  that 
the  warehouse  he  has  just  seen  contains  the  whole 
"  Yankee  nation/'  chained  and  bound. 

Against  the  lamp-post  we  have  another  friend  lean- 
ing. Look  at  him  well;  for  he  is  one  of  our  aristocratic 
visitors.  See  with  what  negligent  ease  he  leans  against 
the  post,  legs  overlapped,  and  thumbs  in  armholes  of 


114  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

vest.  His  great  gray  eyes  survey  the  "  Yankees;"  whilst 
a  smile  of  pleasure  mixed  with  contempt  habitually 
possesses  his  lip, — pleasure  at  seeing  the  "  Yankees"  in 
prison,  contempt  for  the  valor  of  all  mankind  except 
the  Southern-born. 

This  man  is  well  clothed,  looks  like  a  gentleman, 
associates  with  our  jailers,  who  are  officers  in  the  Con- 
federate regular  army,  no  doubt  possesses  many  honor- 
able and  worthy  traits  of  character,  has  the  entree  in 
the  highest  circles  of  social  life,  is  respected,  honored, 
and  admired;  but  place  him  before  these  bars,  bid 
him  look  at  the  "  Yankees,"  and  in  that  smile  which 
perhaps  comes  unbidden  to  his  lips,  you  see  revealed 
the  secret  malice  and  hatred  of  his  heart.  In  the  un- 
dying bitterness  of  his  soul,  he  would  crush  us  with 
his  heel,  prisoners  unarmed,  and  helpless,  as  we  are. 

A  few  paces  to  the  left  of  our  aristocratic  friend,  a 
negro  stands,  with  tattered  garments,  bow-legs,  and 
glaring  eyes.  He  comes  to  see  us  every  Sunday ;  and 
we  welcome  his  vacant  stare  and  greasy  ebony  face, 
amidst  the  mass  of  bitterness  around  him.  That  negro 
has  a  history ;  and  it  is  a  favorite  pastime  with  us  to 
unravel  its  mysteries. 

Across  the  street,  the  curb  is  lined  with  our  friendly 
and  sociable  visitors,  who,  with  eager  eyes  and  upturned 
faces,  spend  the  day  with  us. 

Who  is  this  crossing  the  street,  seemingly  to  get  a 
nearer  view  ?  He  has  a  shambling  gait,  and  a  snuff- 
colored  suit  of  clothes,  a  rainbow  cap,  the  colors  cen- 
tring in  a  point  which  overlaps  his  neck,  around  which 
a  heavy  woollen  comforter  is  drawn ;  about  the  waist 
he  wears  a  raw-hide  belt,  with  large  cheese-knife  pen- 
dent, his  fingers  fondly  manipulating  the  hilt.  As  he 


SUNDAY    IN    PRISON.  115 

approaches  nearer,  we  discern  expressionless  features,  a 
dull  eye,  and  a  slight  hirsute  growth.  Motionless  he 
stands  and  stares,  and  then  a  shrill,  effeminate  voice  is 
heard  exclaiming,  "  Is  them  the  Yanks  ?"  The  mystery 
is  solved :  he  is  a  country-recruit,  and,  to  use  his  own 
words,  "jist  jined  the  army,  and  kum  to  fight  the 
Yanks." 

We  have  military  officers  upon  the  pavement, — heroes 
of  Manassas,  that  look  down  contemptuously  upon  their 
brother-soldiers  who  shared  not  the  honors  of  that 
field. 

As  they  stand  in  groups,  we  will  sketch  the  varieties 
of  uniform  worn  by  yonder  squad  of  four,  who  are  all 
first  lieutenants  of  the  infantry. 

No.  1  is  in  citizen-dress,  of  gray  kersey  pants,  coat, 
and  vest,  a  black  slouch  hat,  belt  similar  to  those  of 
United  States  privates,  no  sash,  and  home-manufactured 
sword,  suggesting  the  idea  of  an  altered  scythe-blade. 

No.  2  is  attired  in  complete  uniform  of  blue, — the 
shade  known  as  Mazarin  blue;  the  pantaloons  have 
on  each  leg  a  broad  stripe  of  orange-colored  cloth ;  the 
cap  is  somewhat  similar  to  the  United  States  regu- 
lation, except  that  the  crown  is  brought  forward  per- 
pendicularly to  the  visor-brim,  and  the  entire  surface 
covered  with  letters,  wreaths,  and  eagles  of  brass 
braid.  His  coat  is  double-breasted,  having  four  rows  of 
buttons,  and  presenting  a  formidable  breastplate  of 
metal.  The  cuffs  and  collar  are  of  brown  cloth; "the 
collar  on  each  side  is  ornamented  with  two  stripes,  three 
inches  long,  of  yellow  cloth ;  .each  sleeve  is  adorned 
with  chevrons  of  brass  braid,  serpentine  shape,  and  ex- 
tending from  the  cuff  six  inches  above  the  elbow.  He 
wears  a  red  worsted  sash,  with  enormous  bow-knot  in 

8 


116  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

front,  the  ends  hanging  nearly  to  the  knee,  with  win- 
dow-blind tassels  pendent.  A  white  leather  belt  and 
United  States  cavalry-sword  complete  the  picture. 

No.  3  has  an  entire  suit  of  snuff-colored  cassinet,  black 
stripe  down  the  pants,  double-breasted  coat,  brass  but- 
tons, slouch  hat,  red  flannel  sash,  black  leather  belt, 
and  United  States  sergeant's  sword. 

No.  4  has  the  uniform  as  per  regulations  C.  S.  Army; 
light-gray  double-breasted  frock-coat,  light-blue  pants, 
serpentine  chevrons  on  each  sleeve,  two  bars  on  each 
side  of  coat-collar,  United  States  belt,  sword,  and  sash. 

As  they  stand  in  the  group,  ludicrous  ideas  are  sug- 
gested of  a  dress-parade :  yet,  grotesque  as  their  appear- 
ance may  be,  we  must  not  sneer ;  for  they  might  scent 
Yankee  blood  behind  the  bars,  and  then,  good  com- 
panions, we  might  be  venom-struck. 

Richmond  is  one  vast  rendezvous  for  Confederate 
officers,  who  hang  around  the  hotels,  and,  as  we  learn 
from  the  papers,  make  an  immense  display  of  red  pants, 
artillery-caps,  &c.,  to  the  admiration  of  the  females  of 
the  hotels  and  the  darkey  waiters. 

"Many  of  these  sons  of  Mars  are  arrant  impostors, 
and  the  gaudier  their  military  trim  the  more  likely  are 
they  to  be  discovered  as  gamblers,  quartermasters' 
clerks,  tailors'  snips,  or  members  of  the  Legislature. 
Their  impudence,  of  course,  is  sublime.  They  swagger 
in  the  hotel-parlors,  stretch  their  boots  on  the  sofas, 
and  never  take  their  meals  at  the  ladies'  ordinary  with- 
out their  coats  being  buttoned  up  to  their  throats,  and 
a  general  stiffness  in  their  backs  as  if  they  were  on 
dress-parade.  There  are  some  curiosities  about  these 
military  dandies.  Sudden  transformation  of  dress  is 
the  coup  de  main  of  the  dandy ;  and  it  not  unfrequently 


SUNDAY    IN    PRISON.  117 

happens  that  some  of  the  distingue  boarders  at  the  hotels 
appear  in  civilian  dress  during  their  unmilitary  occupa- 
tion of  the  day,  and  at  nightfall  attire  themselves  in 
the  very  tip  of  soldierly  apparel,  not  forgetting  buck- 
skin gauntlets,  to  do  the  military  in  the  hotel-parlors, 
or  to  enact  the  '  front  of  Mars'  in  the  vestibule  of  the 
bar-room.  Orderlies  and  sergeants  have  more  than 
once  been  passed  off  in  this  city  on  susceptible  young 
ladies  as  staff-officers,  and  impostors  have  sat  at  the 
best  tables  in  Richmond,  in  the  grandeur  of  gold  lace 
and  '  Palmetto  buttons.'  " 

Our  visitors  are  not  confined  to  the  male  sex.  Ladies 
often  honor  us  by  their  presence.  From  many  the 
eye  flashes  hatred  and  contempt.  They  pass  on,  without 
creating  a  ripple  on  the  great  ocean  of  our  equanimity. 
But,  ah,  how  quickly  the  heart  bounds,  and  the  face 
beams  with  delight,  when  a  smile  of  pity  and  sympathy 
from  fair  friends  (and  they  are  many)  comes  through 
the  rusty  bars  !  Only  a  few  moments  ago,  a  beautiful 
girl  went  past,  hanging  affectionately  on  husband's  or 
lover's  arm,  and  her  low  voice  was  heard  exclaiming, 
"  I  wish,  George,  they  were  out ! — I  do,  indeed  !"  God 
bless  her !  and  may  life-clouds  never  gather  around  that 
earnest  and  pure  heart ! 

Turning  from  the  window,  we  glance  around  the 
room.  An  unusual  quiet  prevails.  Each  mess-table  has 
its  busy  writer.  Letters  for  home ! — what  a  wealth  of 
heart-feelings  those  pages  contain,  their  influence  per- 
meating thousands  of  firesides,  and  almost  touching 
the  stern  heart  of  that  unknown  official  who  is  the 
grim  arbiter  of  our  opened  letters ! 

Often  have  we  pictured  that  man  upon  his  judgment- 
seat,  a  large  basket,  beside  him,  and»  busy  assistants 


118  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

heaping  letter  upon  letter  on  the  table.  See  him  now. 
With  frigid  features  and  inanimate  eye,  he  glances  over 
that  letter:  quickly,  sharply,  and  with  a  " pshaw!"  he 
tosses  it  into  the  basket  of  rejected  letters.  It  was 
written  by  a  wounded  man,  whose  feeble  fingers  ren- 
dered the  lines  illegible  except  to  eyes  of  love,  for 
which  it  was  alone  intended. 

Look  again.  He  spreads  before  him  a  sheet  of  fools- 
cap, closely  written  and  interlined.  One  glance,  and 
into  the  basket  it  goes.  That  letter  contained  the  out- 
pourings of  a  husband's  love  for  his  home  and  its  dear 
ones. 

Again  see  him.  With  a  smile  upon  the  lip,  his  rigid 
features  illumined  with  humor,  calling  upon  a  brother- 
censor,  he  exclaims,  "  Listen,  Joe ! — '  My  own  sweet 
darling,  I'm  almost  crazy.  Are  you  wounded?  do  you 
suffer  ?'  etc. — I  say,  Joe,  isn't  she  a  beauty  with  the 
pen  ?  Let's  see  who  she  is.  Why,  she  is  writing  to 

Lieutenant ,  and  her  name  is  Mary ,  of 

City.  Well,  I  guess  he  may  have  it."  And  he  tosses 
it  aside. 

Again  he  reads ;  again  the  basket  receives  a  letter. 
Lines  written  by  an  old  German  to  his  son,  a  prisoner 
of  war,  for  a  power  of  attorney  to  draw  his  pay,  to 
keep  the  old  man  from  want.  Alas  !  it  was  written  in 
German,  a  language  not  understood  by  the  censor. 
Into  the  basket  it  goes;  and  the  old  father  suffers  on, — 
perhaps  to  the  grave. 

Many  around  the  room  are  reading  the  book  of  God, 
recalling  a  mother's  tender  teaching  or  a  father's 
revered  example  in  the  bygone  lapse  of  years.  Others 
are  pacing  up  and  down  in  silent  thought;  whilst  all 


SUNDAY    IN    PRISON.  119 

respect  the  day  and  its  sacred,  solemn  duties.  As  the 
hours  pass  on,  quiet  conversation  and  warm  intercom- 
munion of  sympathies  and  future  friendship  occupy  our 
little  band  until  the  evening  meal.  At  seven  o'clock 
we  assemble  for  divine  worship. 

The  President  calls  the  Association  to  order,  and 
silently  and  reverently  we  listen  to  God's  holy  word 
from  the  lips  of  our  estimable  chaplain,  Kev.  John  W. 
Mines,  of  Bath,  Maine. 

The  evening  closes  quietly;  and  as  the  officer  of  the 
day  commands,  " Lights  out!"  we  retire  to  our  straw 
beds,  fully  trusting  in  our  God,  that  he  will  soon  restore 
us  to  our  beloved  ones. 


120  PRISON-LIFE   AT  RICHMOND. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

OUR  JAILERS. 

THE  degree  of  privation  to  which  we  are  subjected 
depends,  to  a  great  extent,  upon  the  character  and 
temperament  of  the  officers  in  charge, — the  regulations 
of  the1  post  being  such  as  to  allow  much  latitude  of 
judgment  and  action  to  our  jailers;  in  consequence  of 
which,  we  have  received  every  degree  of  treatment, 
from  the  rough  usage  of  convicted  felons,  to  the  kind- 
ness due  us  as  gentlemen  and  soldiers. 

The  officers  of  the  prison  are  usually  State  cadets,  a 
few  from  West  Point,  whilst  many  have  been  tempo- 
rarily attached  to  the  post  as  "  officers  of  the  guard" 
from  the  volunteer  regiments  encamped  around  Eich- 
mond.  The  latter  have  presented  many  burlesque  in- 
stances of  ignorance  in  military  duty,  discipline,  and 
courtesy;  whilst  the  former  assume  an  importance  of 
bearing  perfectly  irresistible,  in  its  drollery  of  conceit, 
upon  those  for  whom  intended, — the  "  Hessians." 

The  lieutenant  acting  officer  of  the  day  is  on  duty 
twenty-four  hours,  during  which  period  he  has  under 
control  our  supplies  of  milk,  newspapers,  clean  linen, 
potatoes,  molasses,  and  gas-light,  with  many  other  pri- 
vileges, such  as  visiting  men  in  hospital,  receipt  of 
letters,  reception  of  visitors,  &c. ;  and  whilst  one  day 
we  receive  courteous  treatment,  the  next  will  probably 
unfold,  through  a  new  officer  of  the  day,  the  manifold 


OUE  JAILERS.  121 

miseries  of  being  a  prisoner  of  war.  Milk  is  probably 
suspended.  The  newsboys,  and  Susan  the  negro  washer- 
woman, wait  in  anxious  companionship  upon  the  curb 
for  the  permission  of  the  officer  of  the  day  to  approach 
the  door;  whilst  the  hall  is  crowded  with  needy  officers 
impatient  for  their  linen  and  milk. 

An  officer,  prompted  by  a  due  regard  for  the  neces- 
sities of  his  "mess,"  calls  for  the  corporal  of  the  guard. 
Waiting  perhaps  half  an  hour  in  the  hall,  the  sleepy, 
indifferent  soldier  appears,  and  has  placed  in  his  hand 
a  basket,  a  silver  half-dollar,  and  a  memorandum  for  a 
peck  of  potatoes.  An  hour  elapses.  At  last  the  cor- 
poral appears,  lounging  leisurely  along.  He  approaches 
the  door  and  is  hailed  by  the  expectant  and  hungry 
officer,  but  without  avail.  The  corporal  enters  the 
office,  for  the  basket  of  potatoes  must  be  examined  by 
the  officer  of  the  day ;  and  perhaps  in  two  hours  from 
the  time  the  order  was  first  given,  the  "  mess"  receives 
its  peck  of  potatoes.  Thus  it  is  with  every  thing  we 
wish.  Trifling  causes  of  complaint,  but  often  depriving 
us  of  the  only  vegetable  of  our  bread-and-meat  dinner. 

We  do  not  object  to  any  prison-regulations  necessary 
for  our  safe  keeping  and  the  protection  of  Secesh  in- 
terests; but  whatever  system  they  adopt  is  so  influ- 
enced by  the  temperament  of  the  temporary  officer  of 
the  day,  and  the  indolence  and  inertness  as  well  as  the 
disobliging  nature  of  the  subordinates,  that  we  never 
know  "  what  the  morrow  will  bring  forth." 

In  some  instances,  after  the  order  annulling  our 
darkey  errand-boy's  vocation,  days  have  passed  with- 
out our  being  able  to  procure  the  few  articles  necessary 
to  make  prison-fare  palatable. 

These  annoyances  result  entirely  from  the  latitude 


PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

given  to  the  officers  of  the  day  in  the  details  of  guard- 
ing the  "  Yankee  prisoners." 

Not  alone  in  regard  to  our  table  are  we  subject  to 
their  whims,  but  we  receive  from  them  language  better 
fitted  for  brothels  and  pot-houses  than  for  a  prison 
reserved  for  officers  prisoners  of  war. 

On  the  7th  of  January,  an  altercation  regarding  the 
supply  of  milk  occurred  between  the  officer  of  the  day 
jocularly  called  "  Bowie-Knife,"  and  a  lieutenant 
prisoner  of  war,  during  which  "  Bowie-Knife"  used 
epithets  and  invectives  too  disgusting  for  these  pages, 
concluding  with,  "Shut  up,  or  I'll  run  you  through!" 

Up  to  the  time  when  the  order  was  first  given  to 
call  the  roll  at  seven  o'clock,  we  had  been  accustomed 
to  rise  at  eight  o'clock.  Hence  many  sound  sleepers, 
not  always  hearing  the  summons  in  the  morning,  would 
continue  to  sleep,  while  our  august  jailer  was  waiting 
restlessly  at  the  door.  At  such  times  it  was  a  "  morn- 
ing song"  for  Lieutenant  Booker,  officer  of  the  day,  to 
use  such  language  as,  "Corporal,  pull  those  men  out!" 
"Sentry,  use  your  bayonet!"  "Damn  you,  get  up!" 

Usually  two  sentinels  would  be  posted  in  the  room, 
with  orders  to  allow  none  to  pass  them,  and,  after  we 
had  answered  roll-call,  with  nothing  on  but  our  under- 
clothes, and  unable  to  reach  our  wardrobe,  we  would 
be  forced  to  stand  shivering  until  the  roll  was  com- 
pleted and  the  officer  and  his  guard  had  left  the  room, 
— sometimes  not  in  company  with  each  other,  as  the 
officer,  flushed  with  the  sense  of  his  authority  over  the 
"Yankee,"  occasionally  forgets  his  sentinels,  who  are 
left  standing  on  their  posts,  keeping  us  huddled  together, 
shaking  and  trembling  in  the  cool  air  of  the  morning. 

At  night  our  supply  of  gas  depends  entirely  upon 


OUR  JAILERS.  123 

the  disposition  of  the  officer  of  the  day.  Until  nine,  ten, 
and  eleven  o'clock,  and  in  some  instances  all  night,  have 
we  been  allowed  to  burn  the  gas.  "We  can  calculate 
with  mathematical  accuracy  how  long  it  will  burn  on 
certain  nights,  knowing  what  stripling  of  an  officer 
then  assumes  command  over  the  despised  and  vulgar 
"  Yankees." 

Experience  has  taught  us  that  those  officers  who 
most  loudly  abuse  the  "  Yankees/'  and  who  upon  all  oc- 
casions proclaim  |he  inevitable  success  of  the  Rebellion, 
are  least  sincere  in  their  profession  of  patriotism;  and 
we  receive  from  those  who  hail  from  South  Carolina 
and  Alabama,  more  courteous  treatment  and  privileges 
than  we  do  from  the  vaunted  chivalry  of  Virginia. 

The  former  States,  bold  in  their  announcement  of 
Secession  principles  and  actions,  are  open  enemies  and 
honest  if  misled  adversaries;  the  latter  State  stole 
from  the  Union  thief-like,  proffering  a  Judas  kiss  in 
her  peace-delegation  to  "Washington,  Each  State  ap- 
pears to  have  robed  its  commissioned  officers  with  the 
attributes  of  its  distinctive  nationality.  The  answers 
we  receive  to  the  inquiries,  "Is  he  an  Alabamian?" 
"What  State  does  he  come  from?"  give  us  an  almost 
certain  clue  to  the  character  of  an  officer  unknown  to 
us  who  is  newly  appointed  over  the  prisons. 

The  "Richmond  Examiner"  of  February  11,  1862, 
narrates  the  experience  of  Captain  W.  D.  Farly  in  the 
military  prison  of  Washington,  stating  that  he  had 
been  treated  with  great  severity  and  the  most  out- 
rageous insults,  and  adduces  the  following  instances  of 
brutality : — 

"  On  one  occasion  our  [Confederate]  prisoners  were 
ordered  to  stand  up  when  their  names  were  called, 


124  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

and  one  of  them,  remarking,  'We  thought  we  were 
prisoners  of  war/  was,  without  a  word  of  reply,  thrust 
into  a  cell." 

Captain,  we  sympathize  with  you ;  for  we  are  ordered 
to  be  bayoneted  out  of  bed  in  Eichmond  to  attend 
roll-call,  and  not  only  to  stand  up,  but  to  march  with- 
out clothing  in  single  file  past  our  jailers. 

Another  sad  experience  of  Captain  Farly: — "The 
practice  had  been  adopted  of  insulting  our  prisoners 
of  war  by  confining  in  one  room  with  them  deserters 
from  the  Confederate  side." 

Again  our  sympathies  rise  for  you,  captain, — as  we 
have  among  us  disgraced  Confederate  soldiers,  desert- 
ers, and  miserable  detective  police-officers  and  govern- 
ment spies,  whose  vocation  among  us  is  to  become 
the  butt,  not  the  inquisitor,  of  the  "  Yankee"  officers. 
And  for  your  further  consolation,  captain,  we  inform 
you  that  on  the  llth  of  February,  1862,  Lieutenant 
G.  W.  Emack,  Confederate  officer  of  the  day  at  the 
prison,  ordered  five  men  of  the  42d  New  York  Kegi- 
ment  to  be  confined  in  a  cell  for  refusing  to  clean  the 
quarters  of  the  Confederate  guard  and  to  saw  and  carry 
wood  for  the  said  guard,  &c.  &c. 

It  is  with  pleasure  that  we  turn  from  these  records 
of  imbruted  yet  self-styled  "refined"  gentlemen  of  the 
South,  to  render  our  testimony  to  the  uniform  courtesy, 
urbane  kindness,  and  obliging  disposition  of  those 
whose  manly  hearts  instinctively  felt  and  acted  upon 
the  natural  relation  between  officers  prisoners  of  war 
and  officers  in  command  over  them. 

We  shall  not  soon  forget  those  little  attentions, 
trifling  in  themselves,  but  inestimable  to  us  behind  the 
bars.  The  noble  heart  impulsively  reflects  itself  in  noble 


OUR   JAILERS.  125 

actions;  and,  whilst  a  mass  of  seething  bitterness  en- 
compassed us,  they  alone  realized  that  we  were  not 
brutes,  hound-like,  to  be  hooted  at  and  reviled  and  spit 
upon. 

With  this  courtesy  was  invariably  combined  the 
most  strict  attention  to  the  warehouse-regulations ;  and 
by  none  were  "prison-orders"  more  rigidly  enforced 
than  by  those  of  our  jailers  whom  it  is  a  pleasure  to 
call  gentlemen  and  soldiers. 

They  were  few  indeed,  compared  with  those  who 
frolicked  in  the  enjoyment  of  tightening  our  shackles ; 
but  their  treatment  of  the  Federal  officers  in  Eich- 
mond  will  warm  many  hearts  towards  them  throughout 
our  country.  The  gratitude  of  many  a  home-circle  will 
blend  their  names,  alien  though  they  be,  with  kind  and 
prayerful  remembrances  amid  the  desolation  of  homes 
and  the  devastating  march  of  war. 

If  we  roughen  the  naturally  irascible  temperament 
of  our  Confederate  jailers  by  the  following  short 
sketches,  we  assure  them  that  our  judgment  of  their 
character  and  treatment  is  based  upon  recognized 
principles  of  Southern  chivalry  as  unfolded  by  the 
Eichmond  press, — "the  polished  amenities  of  civilized 
life." 

Towering  far  above  the  herd,  electrically  inspiring 
the  wavering  hearts  of  the  people  in  their  desperate 
conflict,  and  devoting  the  immense  resources  of  his 
mind  to  the  combination  of  the  civil  and  military 
necessities  of  the  Eebellion,  we  find  our  great  jailer, 
JEFFERSON  DAVIS,  who  may  be  seen  occasionally  on  a 
fine  afternoon,  mounted  on  a  neat  and  stylish  bay  mare, 
accompanied  by  one  of  his  aids,  riding  past  the  "Yan- 
kee prisons." 


126  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

His  appearance  is  by  no  means  characteristic  of  the 
man,  creating  disappointment  in  the  mind  of  the  ob- 
server. He  looks  care-worn  and  in  ill  health,  with 
haggard  features  and  evidently  exhausted  frame,  as  if 
the  incessant  toil  of  his  intellect  was  gradually  but 
surely  .bearing  him  to  the  grave.  As  he  returned 
the  military  salute  of  the  officer  of  the  post,  he  turned 
his  full  face  towards  the  prison ;  and  it  seemed  to  one 
at  least  behind  the  bars  that  there  was  a  tinge  of  sad- 
ness in  those  wasted  features  as  he  beheld  one  of  the 
pitiful  consequences  of  the  desolations  of  an  unholy 
ambition.  He  is  the  object  of  incessant  and  fulsome 
adulation,  deified  by  the  old  ladies,  worshipped  by  the 
young,  who  vie  with  each  other  in  showering  upon  him 
their  idolatry,  always  accompanied  by  unique  presents, 
varying  from  a  pair  of  gloves  knit  from  the  curls  of 
a  pet  lap-dog,  to  barred  banners  from  the  trembling 
fingers  of  old  women  verging  on  a  century,  tendered 
always  as  an  evidence  of  the  independence  of  the  South 
in  home-manufactures. 

Politically  we  judge  him  to  be  unpopular,  as  the 
Richmond  press — extravagant  in  all  else — seldom 
allude  either  to  his  position  or  abilities. 

Brigadier- General  John  H.  Winder,  commanding  the 
Department  of  Eichmond,  and  having  special  charge 
of  the  "  Yankee"  prisoners,  is  a  man  apparently  sixty- 
five  years  of  age,  short  and  compact  in  frame  and 
curt  in  act  and  speech.  He  commands  fear,  if  no  other 
feeling,  from  his  subordinates, — who  allude  to  him  in 
their  conversation  as  if  the  shadow  of  his  presence 
surrounded  them.  When  he  visits  the  prison-office, 
there  may  be  perceived  among  the  junior  officers  an 
apparent  dread  of  portending  evil. 


OUK   JAILERS.  127 

A  graduate  of  West  Point,  class  of  1820,  and  a  marti- 
net of  forty  years'  standing,  whose  military  abruptness 
cuts  like  a  scythe  through  the  fears  of  the  stripling 
cadets  around  us,  he  is  indeed  to  them  "  a  feared  and 
fearful  thing."  The  prisoners  seldom  see  him,  except 
through  the  bars ;  but  we  look  upon  his  visits  to  the 
prison-office  as  an  inevitable  roughening  of  our  con- 
finement. 

He  is  a  man  of  oddities  both  in  speech  and  character, 
but  profane  and  coarse  in  his  eccentricity.  A  Federal 
officer  captured  at  Bull  Run,  whose  patriotism  was 
doubted  by  his  brother-prisoners,  showered  daily  upon 
the  general  letters  of  appeal' and  argument  relative  to 
his  imprisonment.  Weeks  passed  without  response; 
and  finally  the  officer,  despairing  of  access  to  the  gene- 
ral's sympathies,  escaped  from  the  prison.  When  the 
fact  was  reported  to  Winder,  he  burst  forth,  character- 
istically, with,  "  Damn  the  fellow  !  I  hope  he  will  escape, 
and  bother  me  no  more  with  his  damned  letters  !"  And, 
sure  enough,  the  "  fellow"  did  escape. 

Winder  is  not  popular  with  the  press,  and  is  daily 
the  subject  of  abuse  in  their  editorial  columns,  where 
he  is  openly  charged  with  collusion  with  the  prison- 
undertaker  and  with  speculation  on  the  burial  of  the 
dead  both  of  Confederate  and  Federal  soldiers. 

Captain  George  C.  Gibbs,  commandant  of  the  post,  a 
native  of  Florida,  apparently  about  forty  years  of  age,  of 
peculiarly  slight  and  wiry  frame,  indomitable  will,  and 
fluctuating  temperament,  had  command  of  our  ware- 
house for  nearly  five  months.  At  times  he  was  court- 
eous and  bland  in  manners  and  obliging  and  liberal  in 
his  actions,  at  others,  coarse  and  abrupt,  narrowing 
the  limits  of  our  few  privileges,  and  making  us  feel, 


128  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

harshly  and  gruffly,  the  privations  of  our  captivity. 
He  was  possessed  of  many  fine  qualities,  but,  owing 
to  the  variable  character  of  his  disposition,  which  has 
by  many  been  attributed  to  ill  health,  he  was  unpopular 
with  the  prisoners ;  and  it  was  with  mingled  feelings 
of  regret  and  pleasure  that  we  bade  him  farewell, — 
pleasure  at  his  departure,  regret  at  the  thought  that 
Fortune  might  send  us  a  far  more  rigid  and  un- 
charitable jailer. 

In  December  a  number  of  money-letters  for  the  Fede- 
ral privates,  containing  forty-three  dollars,  were  stolen 
from  the  prison-office.  Captain  Gibbs  and  Lieutenant 
Hairston  immediately  replaced  the  amount  from  their 
private  purses.  The  Federal  officers,  upon  ascertain- 
ing the  fact,  contributed  the  sum  lost,  and  returned  it 
to  Captain  Gibbs.  He  gracefully  accepted  it,  but  at 
once  donated  the  amount,  through  Surgeon  Revere,  of 
Massachusetts,  to  the  needy  prisoners  of  war.  He  left 
us  in  the  latter  part  of  January,  being  ordered  to 
Salisbury,  North  Carolina,  in  command  of  Federal 
prisoners  confined  there,  and  was  succeeded  by  Captain 
A.  C.  Godwin,  commandant  of  the  post. 

Tall,  soldierly  in  his  bearing,  graceful  and  refined  in 
his  manners,  and  courteous  in  his  intercourse  with  the 
prisoners,  Captain  Godwin  merits  the  general  encomium 
of  being  the  most  accomplished  soldier  ever  placed  in 
command  of  the  prisons.  Yet  with  his  usual  suavity 
of  manners  is  blended  an  intense  and  bitter  hatred 
of  the  North,  which,  govern  it  as  he  will,  is  apparent 
in  his  strict  interpretation  of  the  "prison-orders" 
and  the  daily  curtailing  of  the  few  privileges  allowed 
us,  "When  Lieutenant  Emack,  officer  pf  the  day, 
placed  in  a  cell  five  men  of  the  42d  New  York  Re- 


OUR   JAILERS.  129 

giraent  for  refusing  to  police  the  quarters  of  the  Con- 
federate guard  at  the  prison,  strong  appeals  and  argu- 
ments were  used  by  Colonel  Lee  to  Captain  Godwin, 
showing  the  injustice  and  unrailitary  nature  of  the 
order;  but  without  effect.  The  commanding  officer 
was  immovable,  and  the  men  were  forced  to  obey  the 
order. 

Lieutenant  Todd,  commandant  of  the  post,  left  Bich- 
mond  previous  to  the  arrival  of  the  Federal  prisoners 
captured  at  Ball's  Bluff,  but  there  remained  behind 
him  a  reputation  surpassing  record  of  his  cruelty  and 
imbruted  inhumanity.  Drunk  during  nearly  the  en- 
tire period  of  his  authority  at  the  prison,  and  seething 
with  malignity  and  bitterness,  he  made  the  life  of  the 
Federal  officers  one  of  daily  indignity  and  hardship. 
Foul  and  scurrilous  abuse  was  heaped  upon  them  at  his 
every  visit :  sentinels  were  charged  to  bayonet  them 
at  the  slightest  infringement  of  prison-rules ;  men 
were  shot  down  at  prison-windows  by  his  orders ;  and, 
as  if  nature  had  centred  the  essence  of  evil  in  his  foul 
heart,  on  one  occasion  he  thrust  his  sword  into  the 
midst  of  a  crowd  of  Federal  privates  in  the  ware- 
house, regardless  as  to  whose  life  he  endangered. 
Fortunately,  it  passed  through  a  man's  leg,  and  not 
his  body. 

We  turn  with  pleasure  from  the  remembrance  of 
such  a  character  to  Lieutenant  J.  J.  W.  Hairston, 
commanding  post,  whom  we  gratefully  greet  upon 
these  pages  as  one  kindly  given  us  by  Providence  to 
soften  the  rigor  of  prison-life.  In  his  mind  the  know- 
ledge of  the  nature  of  our  position  as  prisoners  of  war 
seemed  to  be  ever  present ;  and,  whilst  strictly  obedient 
to  the  spirit  of  the  prison-regulations,  he  was  ever  sen- 


130  FRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

sible  of  the  inestimable  value  to  us  of  the  many  appa- 
rently trifling  attentions  which,  with  a  due  regard  to 
his  position  and  its  duties,  he  daily  rendered  us. 

To  him  alone  were  we  indebted  for  the  prompt 
receipt  and  delivery  of  our  correspondence;  and  no 
application  was  ever  made  for  permission  to  visit  men 
in  the  hospitals  and  prisons,  or  for  any  other  privileges 
consistent  with  prison-discipline,  that  was  not  freely 
and  courteously  granted,  with  a  pleasant  cordiality  of 
manner  that  rendered  the  privilege  doubly  valuable. 

He  is  an  accomplished  soldier  and  refined  gentle- 
man, but  a  sincere,  earnest,  and  sacrificing,  yet  unob- 
trusive, believer  in  the  justice  of  this  Rebellion, — rare 
qualities  indeed  amidst  the  bombastic  shallowness  of 
patriotism,  so  called,  around  him.  Whilst  the  Confede- 
rate officers  of  the  post  would  introduce  the  never-fail- 
ing subject  of  "  Southern  wrongs"  and  descant  proudly 
upon  the  inevitable  result  of  Southern  valor  and 
prowess,  Lieutenant  Hairsten  would  shrink  from  ob- 
truding upon  prisoners  of  war  opinions  so  much  at 
variance  with  those  which  they  entertained. 

He  left  us  in  January,  and  is  now  upon  outpost- 
duty  on  the  Potomac;  and  those  among  us  who  re- 
member with  gratitude  his  kindness  and  courtesy 
assure  him  of  our  sympathy  when,  in  the  ordinary  re- 
sults of  a  campaign,  he  may  meet  with  misfortune  or 
danger.  If  our  position  as  prisoners  and  captors 
should  ever  be  reversed,  Lieutenant  Hairston  will 
receive  at  our  hands  those  manifold  attentions  which  he 
so  freely  rendered  us ;  and  as  the  future  unfolds  a  ces- 
sation of  the  strife  of  war,  it  will  be  our  pleasure  and 
duty  to  meet  him  as  an  earnest  friend  and  accomplished 
gentleman. 


OUR   JAILERS.  131 

Captain  Jackson  Warner,  commissary, — a  lusus  natu- 
res. Apparently  kind-hearted  and  obliging,  lie  periodi- 
cally indulges  in  the  bitterest  diatribes  against "  Yankee" 
prisoners  and  the  "Yankee"  nation,  yet,  to  the  keen 
observer,  appears  to  possess  a  nature  not  quite  so 
steeled  against  the  North  as  his  wordy  arguments 
and  boastful  sensation-language  would  imply.  His 
birth  partakes  of  the  character  of  his  nature, — an 
enigma. 

His  own  version  is  as  follows : — 

11  He  was  born  on  a  flat-boat  going  down  the  Ohio 
Kiver,  when  the  craft  was  tied  up  to  a  landing:  it 
being  at  night,  and  the  boat  getting  under  way  before 
morning,  he  has  never  been  able  to  tell  where  or  in 
what  State  he  first  saw  the  light."  However,  he  is  a 
hybrid  being,  born  on  Northern  waters  and  flourishing 
on  Southern  soil  and  packets. 

He  is  a  stout,  hearty-looking  fellow,  with  the  spirit 
of  fun  almost  as  well  developed  as  his  immense  circular 
beard  and  crisp  moustache.  He  pops  in  and  out  of 
the  warehouse  like  a  piston-rod  from  a  cylinder,  with 
always  a  word  of  banter,  or,  when  a  little  bit  boozy, 
of  raillery  and  derision.  "  What  did  you  come  down 
here  for  ?"  is  his  text ;  "  Never  mind :  you'll  soon  be 
in  Abraham's  bosom,"  his  discourse;  "  We  licked  you 
at  Bull  Eun,"  his  peroration.  He  has  recently  lost 
his  voice.  Somerset,  Fort  Henry,  and  Roanoke  have 
operated  upon  his  vocal  organs  like  an  east  wind;  and 
for  a  time  at  least  we  are  rid  of  his  nightly  visits  of 
taunt  and  bluster. 

He  has  charge  of  the  feeding-department  of  the 
prison,  and  we  believe  he  does  the  best  he  can  for  us 
under  the  needy  regime  of  "Secessia."  In  the  course 

9 


132  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

of  his  duties  he  daily  visits  the  commissary-sergeant 
and  abuses  him  for  the  waste  of  food  about  the  prison, 
but  invariably  closes  his  remarks  with,  "  Mind,  I  want 
you  to  give  them  enough."  His  appearance  among 
the  men  in  the  upper  stories  is  always  the  signal  of 
boisterous  confusion  and  greeting ;  for  he  invariably 
spins  them  a  yarn  relative  to  their  speedy  release,  or 
utters  vague  promises  of  improvement  in  their  condi- 
tion or  treatment. 

The  Federal  privates  employed  in  the  various  de- 
partments of  the  prison  and  hospital  give  him  a  charac- 
ter for  kindness  of  treatment,  yet  abruptness  in  speech 
and  roughness  of  manner  irrespective  of  the  recipient's 
feelings.  The  constant  theme  of  his  conversation  and 
thoughts  is  this  great  Rebellion;  and  the  prisoners  of 
war  are  his  unwilling  audience,  day  after  day.  We  do 
not  think  that  three  officers  in  the  warehouse  agree  in 
estimating  the  character  of  our  commissary. 

"  He  is  rough."  "  Well,  but  he  is  good-hearted."  "  He 
is  bitter."  "  Pshaw !  that's  only  put  on.  Don't  you  know 
that  hybrid  Secesh  must  act  and  talk  the  strongest  ?" 
"He  insulted  me  last  night."  "Don't  mind  that:  he 
was  a  little  boozy."  Such  are  the  remarks  and  replies 
of  our  good  commissary's  friends  and  foes  in  the 
Tobacco  Warehouse  of  Richmond.  Friend  commissary, 
we  hope  to  catch  you  one  day,  if  you  ever  get  within 
our  reach  ;  and  we  assure  you  that  if  such  a  compound 
mongrel  as  yourself  can  be  found  in  the  North,  we  will 
set  it  watching  your  prison-doors.  But  we  opine  that 
to  catch  you  is  an  impossibility  whilst  Confederate  money 
is  plenty  and  at  par;  and  you  say  there  is  no  possibility 
of  its  ever  getting  scarce,  since  "Jefferson  Davis  has 


OUE,   JAILERS.  133 

three  men  constantly  employed  doing  nothing  else  but 
signing  bonds." 

Lieutenant  Gr.  W.  Emack — alias  "Bowie-Knife,"  alias 
"  Yankee-Killer,"  acting  officer  of  the  day — is  a  tall, 
slim  man, — very  straight,  very  young,  and  very  mili- 
tary. He  possesses  small,  effeminate  features,  and  re- 
markably thin  lips, — the  upper  one  adorned  by  an  in- 
cipient moustache;  and  when  ruffled  by  the  inertness 
of  the  Yankees  at  roll-call,  his  lips  become  compressed, 
and  concentric  furrows  gather  on  his  brow,  making 
him  a  terrible  thing  to  look  at,  if  not  to  shrink  from. 
He  is  a  military  fop  in  attire  and  manner,  exquisite  in 
taste  and  macassar  oil;  and  the  dandy  leer  of  conceit 
and  satisfaction  which  he  casts  upon  the  ladies  passing 
by,  is  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  foppish  buffoonery.  But  the 
delicate  and  soft  traits  of  his  character  are  left  behind 
him  when  he  enters  the  prison.  Here  he  is  the  maxi- 
mum of  bitterness  and  roughness, — from  early  roll- 
call,  when  his  stern  voice  resounds  throughout  the 
building,  "Roll-call!"  until  nine  o'clock  at  night, 
when  "  Put  out  those  lights!"  comes  from  him  in  gut- 
tural tones,  irritating  us  to  such  an  extent  that  he 
is  often  compelled  to  put  them  out  himself.  He  is  re- 
plete with  every  quality  that  can  disgrace  the  character 
of  a  gentleman,  and  possesses  none  which  command 
either  respect  or  civility.  He  has  been  knighted 
"Bowie-Knife"  from  his  prowess — as  narrated  by  him- 
self— in  the  following  escapade.  Having  been  arrested 
during  the  early  part  of  September,  1861,  in  Mary- 
land, under  suspicion  of  drilling  men  for  the  Southern 
army,  he  was  taken  under  guard  to  Tybee,  in  Prince 
Charlotte  county.  Whilst  there  he  was  furnished  with 
a  "bowie-knife,"  by  a  sympathizer  in  the  hotel;  and 


134  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

as  Mr.  Walker,  correspondent  of  the  "New  York 
Times,"  who  had  joined  the  guard,  was  engaged  in 
washing  his  person,  Emack  gave  him  a  severe  cut 
across  the  abdomen,  made  a  dash  past  the  sentinel 
at  the  door,  who  fired  at  him  several  times,  and  es- 
caped to  the  woods,  and  from  thence  across  the  Poto- 
mac to  "  Secessia."  He  claims  to  have  killed  a  brigadier- 
general  and  two  other  officers  in  this  fight.  He  tells 
the  story  with  much  gusto,  repeating  it  whenever  he 
can  obtain  an  audience.  His  alias  "Yankee-Killer" 
was  acquired  by  his  boastful  speech  as  to  what  he 
would  do  when  within  arm's-length  of  the  "Yankees." 
Yet  it  has  created  much  astonishment  with  us  that  so 
belligerent  an  individual  should  be  contented  with  the 
peaceful  occupation  of  guarding  the  "  Yankees."  He, 
however,  evinces  but  little  desire  to  run  the  risk  of 
capture  by  our  forces,  being  sensible  of  the  estimation 
in  which  he  is  held  by  the  prisoners  of  war  in  Rich- 
mond. He  has  on  several  occasions  acted  most  brutally 
towards  the  men  and  insultingly  towards  the  officers, 
and  at  every  opportunity  displays  the  bitterness  and 
malice  of  his  heart  towards  the  prisoners  of  war. 

Dr.  Higginbotham,  surgeon.  Tall  and  gentlemanly- 
looking,  and  courteous  in  his  manners,  the  doctor  has 
acquired  with  the  men  quite  an  enviable  reputation. 
With  the  officers  he  has  not  succeeded  so  well,  although 
their  personal  intercourse  with  him  has  been  of  an 
agreeable  character ;  but  his  reported  discourtesy  and 
neglect  of  the  prisoners  of  war  held  as  hostages,  at 
the  jail,  have  caused  much  ill  feeling  towards  him,  and 
led  many  to  suspect  that  his  suavity  of  manner  is  only 
a  cloak  for  his  antipathy  to  us. 

Owen  B.  Hill,  assistant  surgeon,  seldom  appears  in  the 


OUR   JAILERS.  135 

officers'  quarters,  and  is,  consequently,  but  little  known. 
He  is  well  thought  of  by  the  men  in  the  hospital. 

J.  L.  S.  Kirby,  adjutant1  of  the  post,  thinks  the 
prisoners  are  too  well  treated. 

Lieutenants  Wm.  K.  Bradford, Mercer, 

Turner,  acting  officers  of  the  day,  three  very  young 
men,  who  dress  well,  and  appear  only  anxious  for  their 
tour  of  duty  as  officers  of  the  day  to  end,  that  t]iey 
may  delight  the  fashionable  promenade  of  Eichmond 
with  their  presence. 

Lieutenant  E.  A.  Semple,  acting  officer  of  the  day, 
another  very  young  man,  but  clever  and  obliging,  en- 
tertains us,  occasionally,  with  scraps  from  his  life-expe- 
rience, which  delight  the  heart  and  instruct  the  mind. 
He  is  a  true  son  of  the  South. 

Lieutenant  E.  M.  Booker,  acting  officer  of  the  day, 
merits  no  further  mention  than  this  of  his  name. 

The  Dutch  Sergeant  of  the  Post, — who,  at  the  date 
of  the  arrival  of  the  Ball's  Bluff  prisoners,  appeared  to 
be  the  essence  of  authority  at  the  prison.  Commanding 
officer,  officer  of  the  day,  and  roll-sergeant, — all  seemed 
blended  in  this  German  factotum. 

Was  any  thing  wanted  ?  Ask  the  Dutch  sergeant. 
Would  any  thing  happen  soon  ?  Ask  the  Dutch  sergeant. 
Officers  and  men  in  the  warehouse,  and  negro  cooks  in 
the  yard,  ignored  the  existence  of  all  authority  in  the 
Confederacy,  save  what  centred  in  our  Dutch  sergeant. 
He  was  a  good  fellow  at  times,  and  a  very  bad  one  at 
others.  He  would  show  his  angular  smile  of  half- 
stubborn  good  humor  to-day,  and  curse  us  in  his  frag- 
mentary English  to-morrow.  He  was  an  infallible  dog, 
— thought  himself  omnipresent  and  omniscient.  Well 
do  we  remember,  when  Captain  Bense  and  Lieutenant 


136  PHISON-LIFE    AT   RICHMOND. 

Merrill  escaped,  how  our  Dutch  sergeant  rushed  into 
the  warehouse,  exclaiming,  with  his  Teutonic  accent, 
"  Gentlemen,  two  of  you  have  got  out.  Must  call  de 
roll.  I  saw  'em  go  but  a  minute  ago."  (They  had  been 
gone  thirty-six  hours.)  Completing  the  roll-call,  and 
discovering  the  names  of  the  absentees,  he  darted  out  of 
the  door,  exclaiming,  "  I  know  where  dey  is  !  I  can  catch 
dem."  He  aroused  the  town,  and  patrols  were  sent  in 
all  directions.  But  the  Dutch  sergeant  was  at  fault  for 
once,  as  they  were  rearrested  at  night,  thirty  miles 
from  Richmond,  by  scouts  searching  for  runaway 
negroes.  He  left  us  on  the  22d  of  November,  1861, 
for  Tuscaloosa,  in  charge  of  Federal  officers  and  men 
transferred  thither  as  prisoners  of  war.  By  a  letter 
thence  we  have  been  informed  of  his  popularity,  owing 
to  his  obliging  nature.  He  fills  the  important  post  of 
commissary  at  Tuscaloosa,  and  is  still  noted  for  his 
infallibility  and  usefulness. 

At  twelve  o'clock,  each  day,  the  ceremony  of  guard- 
mounting  is  enacted  in  the  street  opposite  the  ware- 
house-windows. At  that  hour,  the  regiment  on  duty 
for  twenty-four  hours  is  relieved  by  a  fresh  one,  and 
the  details  of  the  relief  are  exhibited  before  us.  A  regi- 
ment of  Confederate  volunteers  present,  in  every  re- 
spect, the  appearance  of  an  armed  mob.  They  march 
to  the  prison,  and  are  formed  in  line  irrespective  of 
size  and  equipments,  and  are  armed  with  every  descrip- 
tion of  fire-arms.  The  right  files,  perhaps,  possess  Bel- 
gian muskets ;  the  next,  the  old  flint-lock,  with  its 
capacious  pan ;  one  carries  a  Minie  rifle,  the  next  a 
double-barrelled  bird-gun,  and  so  on  to  the  extreme 
left  of  the  line, — the  left  files  of  which  often  have  none. 


OUR   JAILERS.  137 

Not  only  do  their  arms  present  a  variegated  appear- 
ance, but  the  manner  in  which  they  are  carried  is 
equally  odd  and  awkward.  It  is  usual  to  see  them  at 
shoulder  arms,  order  arms,  present  arms,  and  right 
shoulder  shift,  when  standing  in  line  at  attention ;  and 
the  command  for  changing  arms  is  only  obeyed  at  the 
discretion  of  the  soldier. 

But  few  are  furnished  with  uniforms.  On  one  occasion, 
when  a  detachment  of  the  "  Richmond  Blues"  (0.  Jen- 
nings Wise,  captain)  was  detailed  to  assist  in  guarding 
the  warehouse,  they  scrupulously  refused  to  appear  in 
line,  except  in  a  body  on  the  extreme  right,  or  to  associate 
with  their  rough-looking  compeers.  Without  uniformity 
in  either  dress,  size,  or  weapons,  they  present  a  grotesque 
and  ludicrous  appearance,  the  effect  of  which  is  not  less- 
ened by  a  familiarity  with  their  social  habits  and  their 
conversational  powers,  unfolded  to  us  as  we  cultivate  an 
acquaintance  with  them — often  for  amusement — whila 
they  stand  on  post  at  the  outer  door. 

The  ceremony  of  guard-mounting  is  briefly  performed ; 
both  officers  and  men  appearing  anxious  for  the  tedious, 
if  brief,  duty  to  be  completed.  Accustomed  as  we  have 
been  to  the  multitudinous  details  of  regimental  and 
brigade  guard-mounting, — an  occasion  when  officers 
and  privates  vie  with  their  comrades  in  exactness  of 
military  appearance,  knowledge,  and  discipline, — we 
beheld  with  amusement  and  consolation  the  disordered 
rabble  in  the  street  before  us. 

The  Confederate  officers  attached  to  the  prison  have 
informed  us,  seemingly  mortified  at  the  daily  exhibition 
before  our  windows,  that  the  guards  sent  them  by 
General  Winder  are  always  from  new  regiments  just 
arrived  in  Richmond;  yet  the  57th  Regiment  of  Vir- 


138  PRISON-LIFE    AT   RICHMOND. 

ginia  Volunteers,  who  from  day  to  day  guarded  our 
prisons  for  three  months,  presented  to  us  the  same 
disordered,  undisciplined  jumble,  at  guard-mounting, 
as  did  the  raw  recruits  referred  to  by  the  prison-officials. 
Possessing  no  information  regarding  the  Confederate 
Army,  except  what  we  gather  through  the  bars  from 
the  appearance  of  our  guards,  from  the  newspapers,  and 
from  an  occasional  transient  companionship  with  a 
"Union"  man  placed  in  our  warehouse,  we  cannot 
form  a  very  exact  estimate  of  the  condition  and  dis- 
cipline of  the  Confederate  Army ;  yet  we  have  been 
assured  that  discipline  and  drill  are  realities  un- 
known in  the  major  portion  of  that  army  now  in  the 
field. 

At  drill-hour  in  a  certain  artillery-company  now  in 
the  peninsula,  the  officer  commanding  is  accustomed  to 
address  his  men  with,  "  Gentlemen,  if  you  please,  we 
will  take  a  little  exercise  this  morning ;"  and  on  one 
occasion  the  men  went  to  him  in  a  body  with  a  re- 
monstrance against  drill,  concluding  with,  "  Captain,  we 
won't  drill  a  d — d  bit :  we  came  to  fight,  and,  if  we  don't 
get  one,  we'll  go  home !"  One  morning  we  were  startled 
by  hearing  a  voice  in  the  room,  more  loud  than  agree- 
able, exclaiming,  "Gentlemen,  darn  nice-looking  set  of 
officers  in  here.  I  like  you  all !  'Spose  there's  a  good 
many  captains  in  here?  I  ought  to  have  been  a  cap- 
tain. I  drilled  my  company  all  they  ever  had.  Gen- 
tlemen, I'm  a  Southern  boy,  I  am ;  but  I'm  a  gentle- 
man : — a'n't  I,  gentlemen  ?"  Looking  around,  we  found 
the  voice  to  proceed  from  our  sentinel  at  the  door,  just 
relieved,  and  about  half  drunk,  on  a  visit  to  one  of  us 
for  whom  he  had  conceived  a  violent  and  enthusiastic 
friendship,  caused  by  the  Federal  officer  presenting 


OUR   JAILERS.  139 

him  with  a  silver   half-dollar, — a  curiosity  in  Kich- 
mond. 

Whiskey  is  the  bane  of  discipline  in  the  camps  of  our 
own  volunteers;  and  the  Confederate  volunteer  has 
access  to  it  at  pleasure.  The  street  opposite  our  war"e- 
house  is  often  lined  with  double  guards,  as  a  punish- 
ment for  their  drunkenness  and  the  mutinous  conduct 
arising  from  it.  Drinking  to  excess  is  not  confined  to 
the  privates,  as  the  daily  papers  teem  with  instances  of 
riotous  intoxication  on  the  part  of  Confederate  officers. 

(Editorial,  "Richmond  Examiner,"  January  25,  1862.) 

"One  cannot  go  amiss  for  whiskey  in  Kichmond. 
The  curse  and  filth  of  it  reek  along  the  streets.  It  is 
eating  into  the  vitals  of  society.  It  is  killing  our  sol- 
diers, making  brutes  of  our  officers,  '  stealing  the 
brains'  of  our  generals,  taxing  our  army  with  endless 
court-martials,  and  sinking  our  great  struggle  into  a 
pandemonium  of  revelry,  recklessness,  and  mad  license. 
Scarcely  a  night  passes  in  Kichmond  but  the  sound  of 
drunken  riot  may  be  heard  on  the  streets,  as  the 
revellers  pass  from  brothel  to  brothel,  or  reel  along  the 
streets  seeking  for  shelter  and  home.  One  has  only  to 
go  into  the  streets  of  the  city  to  see  hundreds  of 
good-looking  young  men,  wearing  the  uniform  of  their 
country,  imbruted  by  liquor,  converted  into  bar-room 
vagabonds,  or  ruined  perhaps  forever." 

We  have  seen  in  one  day,  from  the  windows  of  our 
warehouse,  situated  in  the  suburbs  of  Eichmond,  more 
civilians,  officers,  and  privates  staggering  drunk 
through  the  streets  than  may  be  seen  on  crowded 
Broadway  in  a  week.  General  Bragg,  at  Pensacola, 


140  PEISON-LIFE   AT    RICHMOND. 

has  issued  an  earnest  address  to  his  command,  beseech- 
ing— not  ordering — his  officers  to  lessen  this  evil 
among  themselves  and  men.  And  yet  we  are  assured 
that  with  the  scant  company  stores  one  or  two  barrels 
of  whiskey  are  always  included,  rations  of  which  are 
issued  to  the  men  daily.  Previous  to  an  engagement 
with  the  enemy,  whiskey  is  often  served  to  the  men; 
and  we  found  many  of  the  privates,  and  an  officer  high 
in  command,  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  on  our  march 
to  and  arrival  at  Leesburg,  after  the  battle  of  Ball's 
Bluff. 

The  following  letter,  clipped  from  the  "Richmond 
Dispatch,"  January  24,  1862,  will  afford  an  amusing 
illustration  of  this  subject : — 

"DAVIS'  FORD,  PRINCE  WILLIAM  Co.,  Jan.  12,  1862. 

"In  the  absence  of  every  thing  in  the  shape  of  news, 
let  me  tell  you  how  the  9th  of  January,  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  secession  of  Mississippi  from  the  Federal 
Union,  was  spent  in  the  camp  of  the  12th  Mississippi 
Regiment.  Early  in  the  day  the  ground  presented  a 
scene  of  universal  vivacity  and  good  humor,  which  was 
in  no  manner  decreased  by  the  gallant  Colonel  Hughes 
ordering  the  issuance  of  an  extra  ration  of  the  '  0  be 
joyful'  to  all  hands.  In  the  evening,  the  regiment 
was  serenaded  by  the  excellent  brass  band  belonging 
to  the  6th  Alabama,  which  was  followed  by  speeches 
from  several  gentlemen  of  the  regiment,  full  of  eloquent 
and  patriotic  sentiments  and  trusting  confidence  'in 
the  future.  But  the  crowning  speech  of  all  was  made 
by  our  friend  Joe  Claiborne,  of  the  Claiborne  Guards. 
It  was  full  of  wit  and  humor.  On  being  called  to  the 
stand,  he  commenced  by  congratulating  the  regiment 


OUR   JAILERS.  141 

on  their  success  in  obtaining  so  gifted  an  orator  to 
address  them  as  himself.  He  then  went  on  to  state 
that  he  was  going  to  raise  a  company  for  the  war, — a 
company  of  dephantillery .  That  each  member  should  be 
supplied  with  two  elephants, — one  to  ride,  and  one  as 
a  body-guard.  That  there  should  be  no  duty  and  no 
roll-call.  That  every  member  should  be  supplied  with 
a  gallon  of  whiskey  each  morning,  and  it  would  be  the 
duty  of  the  officers  to  hunt  up  all  members  found  sober 
before  breakfast,  put  them  in  the  guard-house,  and 
keep  them  there  until  drunk,  etc.  * 

"  WARREN." 

The  Confederate  volunteer  per  se  is  a  curiosity,  pos- 
sessing a  physique  that  indicates  a  perfect  lack  of  in- 
terest in  the  great  strife  around  him,  and  a  conversational 
strain  that  excites  laughter  at  its  oddity  and  wonder 
at  its  ignorance,  which,  combined  with  his  variegated 
wardrobe,  renders  him — at  least,  to  us  through  the  bars 
— an  object  of  commiseration  and  of  curiosity.  The 
favorite  amusement  of  many  of  us  is  to  visit  and  con- 
verse with  our  sentinels  at  the  outer  door, — a  practice 
strictly  forbidden  by  orders  never  enforced. 

We  have  found  them  ignorant  of  the  great  issues  of 
this  war,  and,  when  asked  to  explain  their  ideas  of  the 
principles  for  which  the  North  is  contending,  the  reply, 
without  exception,  has  been  "  that  the  Yankees  came 
to  free  the  negroes,  burn  and  steal  their  property, 
ravish  the  women,  and  desolate  the  entire  country." 
When  asked,  "  What  causes  you  to  think  the  North  so 
violent  in  their  hatred  and  intentions?"  the  reply 
invariably  is,  "  Because  our  Congressmen  and  the  big 
folks  have  told  me  so." 


142  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

When  a  regiment  is  on  guard  for  the  third  or  fourth 
day,  the  privates  appear  to  realize  with  astonishment 
that  we  are  neither  heathens  nor  cannibals ;  and  the 
fact  is  clearly  ascertained  that,  although  taught  to  hate 
the  "Yankees"  bitterly,  it  has  required  strong  public 
opinion,  and  the  fear  of  being  drafted,  to  make  them 
volunteer  for  the  service.  They  are  heartily  sick  of 
soldiering,  and  all  "want  to  go  home"  as  badly  as  do 
the  prisoners  they  are  guarding.  But  few  around  our 
prison  are  able  to  read  and  write;  and  all  betray 
an  utter  ignorance  of  the  world's  life  around  them. 
Yet,  steeped  in  ignorance  as  most  of  them  are,  they 
are  gradually  discovering  themselves  to  be  mere  ma- 
chines, moved  by  the  wasting  power  of  the  mighty 
conspiracy,  and,  as  the  war  progresses,  they  learn 
rapidly  the  nature  of  the  principles  which  actuate  the 
North.  The  life  of  a  Confederate  volunteer  is  by  no 
means  to  be  envied;  though  from  its  freedom  from 
drill,  and  its  copious  supply  of  whiskey,  it  might  be 
esteemed  by  many  of  our  own  volunteers  a  Utopia  for 
soldiers,  were  it  not  for  the  scarcity  of  the  necessaries 
of  camp-life.  The  soldier's  pay  is  absorbed  ere  the 
month  is  half  gone,  by  the  ravenous  over-charges  of 
the  camp-sutler. 

But  half  furnished  by  the  government  with  cloth- 
ing and  food,  boots,  coats,  and  blankets,  with  molasses, 
sugar,  and  coffee  at  blockade-prices  bought  from  his 
private  purse,  his  eleven  dollars  per  month  are  soon 
absorbed.  Clothing  of  all  kinds  is  bought  with  avidity 
by  the  guards,  at  incredible  prices.  Many  of  them 
are  in  destitution,  and  correspondingly  shamefaced ;  for 
it  is  no  unusual  sight  to  observe  them,  after  nightfall, 
stop  every  civilian  who  passes  the  warehouse,  and  beg 


OUR   JAILERS.  143 

t 

for  a  pittance  of  money.  It  is  always  promptly  given, 
yet,  in  every  instance,  is  accompanied  with  the  remark, 
"  That  is  all  I  have," — showing  either  a  poverty  of  purse 
in  the  donor,  or  reluctance  in  bestowing  the  charity. 

Our  guards  have  their  amusements,  which  are  not 
always  of  so  base  a  nature  as  getting  drunk  and  beg- 
ging alms  of  the  passer-by.  They  have  their  national 
songs,  their  camp  and  scouting  glees,  with  which  they 
often  enliven  the  midnight  hours  as  they  stand  guard 
at  the  outer  door  over  the  imprisoned  "  Yanks." 

The  other  night,  amidst  the  shuffling  of  feet  and  the 
incessant  consumptive  cough  of  one  of  his  compeers, 
we  heard  a  sentinel  rolling  out  the  notes  of  the  follow- 
ing song : — 

"THE   SOUTH   IS  COMING. 

"Early  one  morning  in  the  month  of  July, 
We  finished  our  crops  and  laid  them  all  by  : 
If  you  want  to  know  the  reason,  I'll  tell  you  why: — 
We  are  going  to  whip  the  Yankees,  we'll  do  it  or  die. 

"  True,  they  have  three  where  we  have  but  one  ; 
But  the  beauty  of  it  is,  they  are  ignorant  of  a  gun : — 
If  you  want  to  know  the  reason,  I'll  tell  you  why : — 
We  are  going  to  whip  the  Yankees,  we'll  do  it  or  die. 

"  They  outnumber  us,  but  we  have  the  bravest; 
They  have  Old  Lincoln,  we  Jeif  Davis : 
If  you  want  to  know  the  reason,  I'll  tell  you  why : — 
We  are  going  to  whip  the  Yankees,  we'll  do  it  or  die." 


144:  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

OUR   VISITORS. 

OFTEN,  whilst  sitting  reading,  writing,  or  engaged  in 
the  amusements  of  cards,  chess,  &c.,  our  attention  is 
arrested  by  the  officer  of  the  day  piloting  through  the 
crowded  room  a  file  of  strangers,  who  stare  at,  and  in 
some  cases  shrink  from,  us,  as  if  they  were  treading  the 
dangerous  footpaths  of  an  East  Indian  jungle.  The 
dinner-hour,  when  we  are  resplendent  with  shining 
tin  crockery  and  "  bread  with  beef,"  appears  to  be  the 
favorite  one  for  exhibiting  us ;  but  at  all  hours  and  to 
all  persons  we  are  open  for  inspection,  as,  judging  from 
the  number  visiting  us  daily,  the  mere  request  to 
General  Winder  provides  the  curious  with  written 
permits. 

When  the  prisoners  first  arrived  from  Manassas,  no 
restrictions  were  placed  upon  the  officer  in  command 
at  the  prisons,  regarding  visitors,  and  the  public  was 
allowed  to  enter  indiscriminately,  subject  only  to  the 
usual  law  of  order  and  decorum, — which  did  not  pre- 
vent the  prisoners  from  receiving  foul  and  abusive 
language  from  the  sight-seeing  on  the  same  floor  with 
them.  At  the  present  time  (December  1,  1861)  we 
are  not  subjected  to  abusive  language,  but  in  lieu 
thereof  receive  insulting  stares  ad  libitum  and  at 
hours  when  privacy  is  most  desired. 

"  Stir  up  the  beasts,"  though  an  inelegant,  is  still 


OUR   VISITORS.  145 

an  apt,  illustration  of  the  process  performed  daily  by 
our  jailers  at  the  "  Yankee"  menagerie  at  Richmond. 
As  our  visitors  march  through  the  room,  different  shades 
of  impressions  are  plainly  evidenced  in  their  faces.  A 
few  seem  astonished  at  finding  gentlemen — not  jackals 
— in  the  building.  Others  appear  to  be  wondering  how 
seventy  men  can  breathe  life  away  in  such  a  den  of 
pine  benches,  tables,  and  cots,  as  that  through  which 
they  are  now  piloted.  Many  have  that  expression  to 
the  manor-born  first  exhibited  to  us  at  Manassas, — 
a  mixture  of  hatred  and  contempt,  with  neither  predo- 
minating; whilst  the  great-  majority  pass  through  the 
building  regardless  of  every  thing  except  the  great  fact, 
"  I  have  seen  the  Yankees." 

On  one  occasion,  a  man  known  to  some  of  us  as  an 
exploded  cotton-factor  and  subsequently  slave-trader 
of  Savannah,  Georgia,  and  the  baseness  of  whose  mer- 
cantile reputation  was  only  equalled  by  that  of  his 
private  character,  passed  through  our  room :  when  he 
reached  the  door,  he  threw  up  his  hands  in  holy  horror, 
exclaiming,  "  Poh  !  how  they  stink  !" 

This  man,  we  understand,  is  a  shining  light  on  the 
hill-tops  of  "  Secessia." 

We  are  occasionally  introduced  to  visitors  by  the 
officer  of  the  day ;  and  every  introduction  is  invariably 
followed  by  the  question,  "Did  you  expect  to  find 
us  so  united?  What  are  you  fighting  for,  if  you 
don't  mean  to  subjugate  us?"  None  of  them  appear 
to  understand  the  brilliant  and  almost  startling  spec- 
tacle of  twenty  millions  of  freemen  spending  their 
life-blood  and  treasure  for  the  upholding  of  a  prin- 
ciple,— the  self-sustaining  power  of  a  republican  govern- 
ment. These  questions  are  not  confined  to  transient 


146  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

visitors  permitted  to  enter  the  warehouse,  but  are  al- 
ways repeated  by  those  whose  acquaintance  was  formed 
previous  to  the  war,  who  call  at  the  prison-office  and 
are  allowed  an  interview  with  us  in  the  presence  of  the 
Confederate  officers. 

Our  visitors  may  be  classified  as  the  military,  clerical, 
and  civilian,  adding  a  mongrel  species, — "  our  nightly 
visitor  with  a  brick  in  his  hat."  Military  visitors  com- 
prise officers  on  furlough  from  camp-duty,  as  well  as 
myriads  of  unattached  uniforms  that  deck  the  streets 
and  hotels  of  Kichmond.  This  latter  class — military 
visitors — form  the  most  obtrusive  and  numerous  of 
our  pests.  We  have  them  of  every  style  and  grade, 
from  the  starred  general  to  the  barred  corporal, — from 
the  balmy  suavity  of  the  ultra-refined  to  the  brutish 
coarseness  of  the  uniformed  sot.  We  cannot  avoid 
them,  and  are  perforce  compelled  to  endure  their  pre- 
sence and  stare  with  an  experienced  equanimity.  Nine- 
tenths  of  them,  if  allowed  by  us,  would  discuss  the 
details  of  every  engagement  of  the  war,  with  its  display 
of  Southern  valor  and  strategic  skill  and  prowess :  yet, 
by  using  a  little  judgment  and  tact,  we. convince  them 
by  silence  how  repugnant  to  prisoners  of  war  must  be 
a  diatribe  against  their  country  from  her  enemies.  Not 
so,  however,  with  our  nightly  visitor  "  with  a  brick  in 
his  hat,"  who  may  also  be  classed  as  a  military  visitor. 
He  is  proof  against  all  suggestions  as  to  the  distasteful- 
ness  of  his  remarks.  He  usually  appears  upon  the 
scene  about  nine  o'clock  at  night,  and  enters  imme- 
diately into  the  subject  with,  "  What  did  you  come 
down  here  for  ?"  "  Abraham's  bosom  is  yearning  for 
you,  boys,"  &c.  &c. 

We  have  become  thoroughly  accustomed  to  his  visits, 


OUR   VISITORS.  147 

and  they  are  looked  for  as  indicative  of  approaching 
fun,  as  he  attacks  and  is  replied  to  by  "  Hoosier"  and 
other  Western  officers.  He  is  a  dry,  droll  old  fellow, 
and  is  only  discomfited  by  our  Posey  county  Hoosier, 
who  generally  flanks  the  old  gentleman  by  using  his 
own  "tactics." 

The  other  night,  in  the  midst  of  a  most  extravagant 
and  burlesque  harangue  on  the  results  of  the  war,  to 
which  we  listened  in  deep  silence,  the  old  fellow  tore 
the  North  asunder,  hung  its  President,  quartered  the 
Abolitionists,  and  sunk  eternally,  with  heavy  expletives 
and  blasting  anathemas,  the  disrupted  Union.  "  Gen- 
tlemen," says  he,  "the  South  will  whip  you;  Abe 
Lincoln  will  cry  enough.  You  are  spending  your  money ; 
you  are  broke, — bankrupt.  England  will  come  in. 
France  will " 

"  Commissary,  what  mule  are  you  going  to  kill  for 
dinner  to-morrow  ?"  interrupted  a  quiet  voice  from  the 
corner.  We  never  heard  what  France  intended  to  do; 
but  we  do  know  what  the  old  fellow  did.  He  left  us  at 
his  earliest  opportunity,  and  we  saw  him  no  more  that 
night. 

Our  uniformed  visitors  are,  conversationally,  united 
to  a  man  in  the  cause  of  the  South ;  and,  were  we  not 
assured  of  the  dissatisfied  feeling  in  the  rank  and  file 
of  the  Confederate  Army,  we  might  reasonably  despair 
of  the  success  of  our  government :  yet  even  in  the  con- 
versation of  the  officers  and  the  prominence  of  the  ques* 
tion,  "  Did  you  expect  to  find  us  so  united  ?"  we  find 
ground  for  suspicion  of  their  weakness  and  irresolution 
regarding  the  future. 

We  seldom  receive  clerical  visitors,  and,  since  the 

departure  of  our  chaplain,  the  Rev.  John  W.  Mines, 

10 


148  PKISON-LIFE  AT  EICHMOXU. 

brother-prisoner  captured  at  Bull  Run,  and  who  was 
released  December  17, 1861, — we  have  had  religious  ser- 
vice on  two  occasions  only.  At  the  first  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wil- 
mer,  late  of  Philadelphia,  officiated ;  the  other  was  con- 
ducted by  two  preachers  of  the  persuasion  of  "Friends." 

We  have  been  honored  by  sereral  clerical  visitors, 
who,  apparently,  were  prompted  by  mere  curiosity  to 
see  the  "Yankees,"  and  who,  during  their  visit,  ignored 
the  subject  of  religious  instruction,  and  distastefully 
forced  upon  us  their  views  regarding  the  status  of 
public  affairs,  exhibiting  as  much  rancor  of  heart 
towards  us  as  is  felt  by  the  average  of  our  civilian  and 
military  visitors.  An  exception  to  this  feeling  may 
be  instanced,  in  the  visit  of  two  "  Friends/'  Natha- 
niel C.  Crenshaw  and  son,  of  Hanover  county,  Vir- 
ginia. "We  readily  granted  their  request  to  hold  reli- 
gious services  with  us,  and  drew  quietly  together  in 
the  western  section  of  the  room.  After  remaining  in 
silence  for  some  time,  the  elderly  Friend  arose  and 
earnestly  addressed  us  on  the  subject  of  "  peace  and 
good  will  towards  all  men,"  elaborating  the  doctrine  of 
"non-combatants"  with  a  gentleness  of  manner  and 
persuasive  earnestness  that  commanded  attention,  if 
not  conviction.  When  he  had  concluded,  his  son  arose 
and  delivered  a  pathetic  appeal  on  "  Redemption." 
Upon  the  conclusion  of  the  services,  they  remained  in 
conversation  with  us  for  half  an  hour :  yet  neither,  by 
tone  or  gesture,  alluded  once  to  the  Rebellion  or  the 
North.  Subsequently  they  again  visited  us,  having 
for  distribution  a  number  of  Testaments  and  religious 
books. 

In  January,  a  Richmond  divine  visited  a  Federal 
lieutenant  confined  in  our  warehouse,  doing  so  at  the 


OUR   VISITORS.  149 

request,  through  flag  of  truce,  of  the  lieutenant's 
parents  in  the  North.  Scarcely  a  moment  had  elapsed 
after  the  clergyman's  entrance  into  the  room  and 
the  usual  greetings,  when  he  uttered  the  following 
language,  in  an  embittered  tone  : — "  So  you  Yankees 
want  to  crush  us  out,  do  you?"  and  continued  in 
this  style  for  a  considerable  time,  until  checked  by  the 
young  lieutenant,  who  plainly  told  him  that  a  discussion 
of  this  subject  behind  the  bars  was  inopportune  and 
discourteous. 

Our  civilian  visitors  are  of  all  kinds  and  qualities, 
from  the  Eight  Honorable  John  C.  Breckinridge  to 
the  dirty  assistant  of  our  accomplished  butpher, — all 
possessing  the  usual  curiosity  and  conversational  tone 
of  their  military  compeers.  Residents  of  Philadelphia 
will,  perhaps,  hear  with  interest  that  Robert  Tyler, 
Esq.,  son  of  Ex-President  Tyler,  and  long  a  resident 
and  public  character  of  that  city,  visited  the  Yankee 
prisoners.  His  conversation  related  chiefly  to  the 
mobbish  character  of  his  exit  from  the  North,  de- 
precating such  treatment  under  any  circumstances. 
He  was  looked  upon  by  the  officers  who  knew  his  ante- 
cedents as  manifesting  considerable  effrontery  in 
assuming  the  privilege  of  visiting  them:  hence  he 
received  a  cool,  although  courteous,  treatment. 

Our  worthy  commissary  is  occasionally  accom- 
panied by  little  scions  of  Eebeldom,  boys  of  eight  to 
twelve,  who  cause  much  amusement  by  their  juvenile 
precocity  in  abusing  by  rule  the  Yankees  and  "Abe 
Lincoln."  One  of  them  possesses  quite  an  unusual 
degree  of  talent,  conversing  with  manliness  and  pro- 
priety, and  now  and  then  treating  us  to  little  songs  of 
sentiment  and  "Secessia." 


150  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

The  great  majority  of  civilian  visitors  are  young 
friends  of  the  youthful  officers  of  the  day,  who,  during 
their  brief  authority,  transgress  the  "  prison-orders" 
by  marching  strangers  through  the  officers'  prison. 

The  Hon.  Mr.  Ely  attracts  many  visitors,  curious 
to  see  their  greatest  trophy  from  the  battle-field 
of  Manassas,— "a  Yankee  Congressman."  As  they 
march  through  the  room,  we  hear  them  whispering, 
"  Is  that  Ely  ?  Pshaw,  no  !  that  can't  be  him.  Why, 
he  looks  like  Bill  Steward,  in  Snyder's  store :  don't 
he?"  "Well,  I  declare,  I  never  would  have  taken 
him  for  a  Congressman."  Many  are  introduced  to 
him,  and  receive  from  Mr.  Ely  the  usual  bland  cour- 
tesies of  his  nature  and  manner. 

We  have  been  informed  that  during  the  early  con- 
finement of  the  Manassas  prisoners  Mr.  Ely  was  sub- 
jected to  much  annoyance  from  visitors  whose  dis- 
courtesy was  only  equalled  by  the  amusing  diversity 
of  their  opinions  as  to  his  fate.  "  You  will  be  hung," 
said  Eoger  A.  Pryor,  of  Virginia.  "  You  will  be  re- 
leased to-morrow,"  said  the  Hon.  Mr.  .  "  You 

will  be  tarred  and  feathered,"  said  another  high-priest 
of  Eebeldom.  "President  Davis  will  invite  you  to 
dinner  to-morrow,  and  Governor  Letcher  the  next 
day :  so  make  yourself  easy,"  said  a  visitor  apparently 
clothed  with  authority.  But,  alas !  there  was  no  dinner 
for  Mr.  Ely  until  he  was  on  the  eve  of  being  sent 
North;  and  dinner,  with  other  good  things,  he  was 
then  plenteously  provided  with,  the  Eebel  authorities, 
no  doubt,  being  solicitous  of  his  good  opinions. 

We  have  received  lady  visitors  only  on  two  occasions, 
— the  first  occurring  immediately  subsequent  to  the 
capture  of  Messrs.  Slidell  and  Mason,  when  two  lady 


OUR   VISITORS.  151 

connections  of  Mr.  Mason  came  to  view  the  Federal 
prisoners,  being  solicitous  regarding  the  treatment  of 
the  Eebel  emissaries  at  Fort  Warren,  and  desirous  of 
forming  an  estimate  of  their  hardships  and  sufferings 
by  ours.  Their  visit  was  brief  and  barren  of  incident. 
The  other  lady  visitors  were  two  daughters  of  an  old 
gentleman  confined  "  under  suspicion"  of  Union  senti- 
ments in  our  warehouse.  He  was  quite  sick,  and  per- 
mission was  granted  them  to  enter  the  building,  where 
they  found  him  upon  his  cot,  propped  up  with  pillows. 
By  their  exertions,  the  old  gentleman  was  released, 
and  returned  honorably  to  his  home. 

Amidst  the  mass  of  curiosity-mongers  daily  thronging 
around  and  in  our  warehouse,  beholding  distress  and 
destitution  in  the  quarters  of  the  privates,  and  want  of 
the  necessary  comforts  and  conveniences  of  life  among 
the  Federal  officers,  we  have  never  yet  welcomed  what 
was  most  needed, — a  Good  Samaritan  visitor. 


152  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 


CHAPTER  X. 

PRISON-COMPANIONS. 

THE  OLD  TOBACCO  WAREHOUSE, 
Tuesday  night,  Feb.  18,  1862. 

LET  me  greet  you  to-night,  companions  in  captivity, 
as  I  gather  these  scenes  around  me  to  enrich  our 
memories  in  after-years.  "  Olden  times"  will  be  our 
own,  and  the  impress  of  our  future  life  will  bear 
the  flow  and  flash  of  thought  to  these  bare  walls  and 
rusty  bars.  The  mind  is  warring  somewhat  with  the 
heart;  for,  though  all  are  eager  for  the  strife  of  the 
outer  world,  we  cannot  part  from  this  old  warehouse 
without  regret, — ay,  almost  sadness. 

As  years  roll  on,  these  feelings  will  grow  into  remi- 
niscences of  this  spot:  its  varied  experiences,  its  che- 
rished associations,  centring  here  to-night,  will  make 
these  cheerless  walls  the  Mecca  of  our  thoughts  in 
distant  years. 

Glancing  around  the  room,  how  busy  and  varied  is 
the  scene  presented  to  the  eye ! 

Yonder  group,  with  pale  faces,  whom  we  greeted 
but  a  few  days  since,  are  the  hostages  released  from  a 
felon -cell  in  Richmond  jail.  With  what  a  warmth  of 
heart,  blended  with  admiration,  wo  welcomed  them  once 
more  to  our  companionship!  For  months  suffering 
every  privation  and  indignity  of  felon-confinement, 
deprived  of  every  comfort  of  life,  tyrannized  over  by 


PRISON-COMPANIONS,  153 

a  sottish  brute  having  them  in  charge,  with  death 
hanging  hourly  over  them,  how  nobly  they  have  sus- 
tained the  honor  of  their  country !  Not  a  murmur 
escaped  them;  and  when  General  Winder,  in  whose 
heart  centred  hatred  and  harshness  towards  them, 
with  his  brutish  nonchalance  of  manner,  said  to  them, 
"  Gentlemen,  can  I  do  any  thing  for  you  ?"  mark  the 
dignity  of  Colonel  Lee's  reply: — "Sir,  we  are  in  the 
hands  of  your  government." 

Our  social  intercourse  with  them  has  been  rendered 
doubly  pleasant  by  their  earnest  and  sincere  cordiality. 
They  came  from  jail-walls  with  a  buoyant  and  free 
open-heartedness  of  manner  that  endeared  them  to  us 
and  infused  a  renewed  cheerfulness  into  our  little  band, 
making  the  old  room  a  perfect  picture  of  domestic,  almost 
wanton,  sociality. 

Near  the  hostages,  bending  over  the  rough  pine 
table,  engaged  in  chess,  sit  Lieutenant  Wm.  E.  Mer- 
rill and  Samuel  A.  Pancoast. 

Lieutenant  Merrill  is  a  graduate  of  West  Point,  and 
attached  to  the  Engineer  Corps  of  the  United  States 
Army,  and  has  been  in  the  Tobacco  Warehouse  since 
September,  '61.  We  shall  not  soon  forget  his  clear, 
practical  intelligence,  and  earnest  though  quiet  humor, 
which  rendered  him  a  choice  companion  and  a  welcome 
aid  in  our  varied  and  sometimes  eccentric  resources  for 
amusement  behind  the  bars. 

Samuel  A.  Pancoast,  of  Bloomery  Furnace,  Hamp- 
shire county,  Virginia,  is  a  brother  of  Dr.  Joseph 
Pancoast,  the  celebrated  surgeon  and  Professor  of  Ana- 
tomy at  the  Jefferson  College  in  Philadelphia.  Mr. 
Pancoast  was  arrested  at  his  home  "  under  suspicion" 
of  Union  sentiments,  and,  although  a  non-combatant, — 


154  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

being  of  the  persuasion  of  "Friends," — he  was  incar- 
cerated in  our  midst,  where  his  pleasant  smile  and 
thorough  enjoyment  of  our  pursuits  and  pastimes 
caused  him  to  be  a  welcome  addition  to  our  exiled 
band.  His  portly  person  and  jovial  laugh  are  found 
and  heard  wherever  cheerful  good  nature  and  prison- 
sports  centre  and  expand.  To  him  are  we  indebted  for 
that  valued  appendix  of  our  merry  Christmas, — the 
receipt  for  egg-nog, — egg-nog  without  milk  and  with- 
out intoxication. 

To  the  left  of  the  chess-players  may  be  seen  a  euchre- 
party.  For  months  they  have  gathered  together 
in  that  spot  in  the  evening,  and  drawn  from  the  harm- 
less sport  a  relief  from  prison -tediousness.  Approach 
them,  and  you  will  find  their  every  energy  bent  upon 
the  game.  Isolated  in  this  old  warehouse,  with  intellect 
and  feeling  catching  but  a  flash  of  the  vigor  and  sun- 
shine of  the  outer  world,  at  this  hour  they  centre  their 
faculties  in  the  subtleties  of  the  game  before  them. 
Their  names  are  Captains  Todd  and  Williams,  Lieu- 
tenants Hooper  and  Vassall. 

Captain  Todd,  of  the  Lincoln  Cavalry,  is,  we  under- 
stand, a  distant  connection  of  Mrsf  President  Lincoln. 
He  is  an  assiduous  "  euchre"-player,  and  expects  an 
early  exchange. 

Looking  at  the  partner  of  Captain  Todd,  we  see 
before  us  the  type  of  manliness .  and  honor, — Captain 
Eeuben  Williams,  of  Warsaw,  Indiana, — whose  warm 
heart,  with  its  earnest  feelings  and  genuine  friendships, 
has  caused  him  to  be  respected  and  loved  by  all  who 
have  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  his  intimate  association. 
He  possesses  a  great' fund  of  humor,  and,  when  aroused 
by  the  spirit  of  universal  frolic  so  often  excited  among 
V 


PRISON-COMPANIONS.  155 

us,  is  the  drollest  of  the  droll,  the  merriest  of  the 
merry. 

Another  of  the  euchre-party  is  Lieutenant  Chas.  M. 
Hooper,  of  Philadelphia,  who  perhaps,  in  a  few  moments, 
will  be  nervously  startled  from  his  seat  by  the  cry, 
"  Hooper,  letters!"  He  is  always  the  happy  recipient 
of  a  large  mail  from  home,  and,  being  constantly  on 
the  qui  vive  for  its  arrival,  our  wags  often  resort  to  a 
false  alarm  to  amuse  themselves  by  his  vigorous  antici- 
pation of  the  mail.  Lieutenant  Hooper  has  acquired 
among  us  an  enviable  reputation  for  firmness  of  cha- 
racter, evidenced  by  his  fearless  rebuke  of  a  Federal 
officer  who,  the  other  night,  in  the  presence  of  a 
Confederate  officer  of  the  post,  reflected  upon  the  Ad- 
ministration at  Washington.  The  lieutenant  plainly 
told  him  that  he  had  mistaken  his  vocation, — that  he 
should  be  "an  officer  in  the  Confederate,  not  the 
Federal,  army."  The  sentiments  of  Lieutenant  Hooper 
are  to  be  admired,  as  the  expression  of  similar  ones 
before  Confederate  officers  has  sent  the  speakers  to 
Tuscaloosa  and  New  Orleans.  Lieutenant  Hooper  is 
a  warm,  devoted  friend  and  a  gallant  and  accom- 
plished soldier.  His  partner,  Lieutenant  Bernard  B. 
Vassall,  of  Massachusetts,  is  a  jovial,  hearty  gentleman, 
whose  pleasant  manners  add  to  the  sociality  of  our 
prison-life. 

Over  in  the  corner  sit  a  party  playing  dominoes.  It 
is  composed  of  some  of  our  choicest  spirits, — "  Bar- 
nacles" the  sea-dog,  "Wax"  the  dry  and  odd,  "Hodge" 
the  steadfast,  and  "  our  Talker," — all  of  whom,  though 
occupying  the"  position  of  stewards,  add  zest  to  the 
evening's  amusements.  Barnacles  is  an  old  quarter- 
master in  the  United  States  Navy.  His  rolling  gait 


156  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

and  blunt  manners,  with  his  good  heart  and  off-handed 
sincerity,  make  him,  with  some  of  us,  a  pet,  rough  as 
he  is.  Poor  Barnacles,  after  serving  for  some  months 
in  Norfolk  jail,  was  transferred  to  Eichmond.  He  has 
been  confined  longer  than  any  other  in  the  warehouse, 
and  only  lately  seems  to  have  realized  that  release  was 
possible.  "When  the  transports  left  Fort  Warren  with 
Confederate  prisoners,  Barnacles  became  our  weather- 
gage.  Instead  of,  "I  say,  Wabash !  any  news  about 
exchange?"  the  cry  became,  "Hallo,  Bunsby!  how's 
the  wind?"  and  Jack  always  knew  ;  for  that  transport 
to  him  was  freighted  with  priceless  liberty. 

"Wax"  is  an  oddity,  gifted  with  wit  dry  and  droll, 
and  an  irresistible  desire  for  sly  jokes  and  constant  sells. 
He  has  become  the  life  and  spirit  of  Kerns 's  baud  of 
brotherhood  and  humor,  called  the  "  Lucre tia  Mott 
Club."  It  is  summoned  together,  generally,  at  eight 
o'clock  P.M.;  and  woe  be.. to  the  unlucky  object  of  their 
pungent  witticisms.  A  member  of  the  club,  whose 
membership  is  unsuspected  by  those  around  him, 
quietly  takes  a  seat  beside  the  devoted  victim,  and 
proceeds  to  converse  upon  the  "hobby"  (and  who  is 
without  one?)  of  the  innocent  devotee.  Silently  other 
members  of  the  gang  gather  around.  One  by  one,  sug- 
gestive questions  are  asked,  elucidations  called  for,  ex- 
travagant effects  deduced  from  simple  causes,  natural 
deductions  twisted  into  burlesque  channels,  and  the 
poor  victim  is  in  a  perfect  heat  of  discourse  and  argu- 
ment,— when  perchance  he  mentions  a  person's  name. 
He  is  then  immediately  asked,  "  Was  he  a  hard 
drinker?"  "Is  he  a  man  of  large  family?"  and  the 
plot  is  exploded,  for  we  all  know  that  these  inquiries 
are  the  passwords  of  the  "  Lucre  tia  Mott  Club." 


PRISON-COMPANIONS.  157 

"Hodge  the  steadfast" — so  called  from  his  devoted 
attachment  to  his  officers  and  his  mess — is  a  quiet,  un- 
obtrusive, and  attentive  steward,  who  has  gained  the 
good  will  and  friendship  of  all  around  him. 

"Our  Talker"  came  to  us  from  the  privates'  floor, 
perfectly  electrical  in  the  flash  of  his  conversational 
powers.  Morning,  noon,  and  night  were  his  abilities 
displayed.  Bemedy,  or  even  mitigation,  of  our  sufferings 
seemed  impossible.  Finally  the  "Lucretia  Mott  Club" 
took  him  in  hand,  establishing  alternate  "  reliefs"  to 
listen  to  him.  He  stood  it  bravely  for  a  while,  but  at 
last  succumbed.  Numbers  overpowered  him;  and  he 
is  now  only  a  moderate  talker. 

In  the  centre  of  the  room  stand  Glover  and 
"Hoosier,"  apparently  in  excited  altercation.  Between 
these  two  there  is  always  an  "irrepressible  conflict." 
They  are  fitted  for  each  other.  Six  feet,  bony,  and 
muscular,  their  combat  would  be  a  fearful  one.  We 
hear  "  Hoosier  V  voice: — "Now,  I  tell  you,  Tom,  you 
have  forfeited  all  claim  to  your  bargain.  I  told  you  I'd 
let  you  alone;  but  you  broke  the  stipulation  not  to 
wink  at  me:  so  prepare  to  be  throttled."  "Now, 
Hoosier,"  says  Tom,  "you  broke  it  first."  "It  won't 
do,  Tom:  so  here  goes!"  And  at  it  they  go,  twist- 
ing, writhing,  arm-locked  and  wall-locked,  over  benches, 
beds,  and  tables,  on  the  floor,  in  the  corners,  wash- 
room, and  tobacco-presses,  until,  from  complete  exhaus- 
tion, an  armistice  is  declared,  which  will  last  perhaps 
ten  minutes. 

Lieutenant  B.  F.  Hancock,  of  Gosport,  Indiana, — fa- 
miliarly known  as  "Hoosier," — is  esteemed  by  us  a  per- 
fect specimen  of  a  hardy  and  honest  son  of  the  West. 
None  of  us  will  ever  forget  his  open-heartedness  of 


158  PRISON-LIFE  AT   RICHMOND. 

character.  To  him  are  we  always  indebted  for  the  dis- 
comfiture of  our  nightly  visitor  "with  a  brick  in  his 
hat,"  whom  he  fearlessly  attacks  and  invariably  de- 
feats. 

Near  the  centre  of  the  room  stands  the  mess-table 
of  the  20th  Massachusetts.  Around  it,  quietly  engaged 
in  a  game  of  whist,  sit  Dr.  Eevere,  Lieutenants  J.  E. 
Greene,  George  B.  Perry,  and  J.  Harris  Hooper. 

E.  H.  H.  Revere,  Assistant  Surgeon  of  the  20th  Regi- 
ment Massachusetts  Volunteers,  the  only  surgeon  upon 
the  battle-field  of  Ball's  Bluff,  has  acquired  and  merited 
our  hearty  esteem.  His  coolness  and  self-possession 
upon  the  battle-field  in  a  position  where  dead  and  dying 
were  falling  around  him,  during  which  he  unflinch- 
ingly maintained  his  post,  have  deservedly  honored  him 
with  an  enviable  reputation  for  personal  courage  and 
high  qualification  as  a  surgeon  upon  the  field  of  battle. 

Adjutant  Charles  L.  Pierson,  of  Salem,  Massachusetts, 
is  esteemed  by  us  for  his  persistent  efforts  in  behalf  of 
the  hostages,  and  his  constant  and  finally  successful 
attempts  to  visit  them  in  their  cell  at  the  jail.  He 
left  us  on  the  25th  of  January;  and  we  have  since 
heard  that  his  earnest  efforts  for  the  amelioration  of 
the  treatment  of  the  hostages  have  resulted  in  obtain- 
ing from  the  United  States  War  Department  a  promise 
of  speedy  attention  to  their  case. 

Lieutenant  J.  E.  Greene,  of  Massachusetts,  the  present 
Vice-President  of  the  R.  P.  A.,  whose  pleasant  smile  and 
quiet,  genuine  sociality  make  him  a  valued  addition  to 
our  evening  circle,  may  be  seen,  absorbed  in  the  game, 
and  throwing  an  earnestness  of  manner  into  its  details 
that  marks  him  as  one  of  our  most  accomplished  whist- 
players.  He  has  acquired  a  popularity  as  a  gentleman 


PRISON-COMPANIONS.  159 

and  as  an  officer  of  the  Association  which  will  outlive 
the  term  of  his  confinement  in  the  warehouse. 

Lieutenant  George  B.  Perry,  of  Boston,  has  a  fine, 
manly  face  and  form,  and  an  unobtrusive,  gentlemanly 
manner,  beneath  which,  to  those  who  know  him  well, 
lie  some  of  the  best  and  noblest  impulses  of  man's 
nature. 

Lieutenant  J.  Harris  Hooper,  of  Boston,  is  a  fit  repre- 
sentative from  the  Old  Bay  State.  Genuine,  frank,  and 
honest-hearted,  we  shall  not  soon  forget  the  many  hours 
that  his  conversation  rendered  less  gloomy  and  drear 
within  the  old  walls. 

Beside  the  "  mess-table"  of  the  20th  Massachusetts 
Eegiment,  engaged  in  reading,  sits  Captain  John 
Markoe,  of  Philadelphia,  captured  at  Ball's  Bluff.  He 
is  quite  young,  yet  with  a  solid  and  compact  frame, 
and  a  fine  open  countenance,  upon  which  is  stamped 
the  index  of  his  character,  honor,  intelligence,  courage. 
Commanding  at  Ball's  Bluff  the  post  of  danger, — the 
extreme  left, — and  holding  that  portion  of  the  field  with 
stubborn  bravery,  wounded  severely,  overpowered  by 
numbers,  he  yielded  not  until  he  stood  alone  within 
the  lines  of  the  enemy.  His  character  for  gallantry 
upon  the  field  is  only  equalled  by  the  innate  modesty 
of  his  nature,  which  shrinks  from  the  public  recogni- 
tion of  its  merit.  Brave,  noble,  and  modest,  the  career 
of  Captain 'Markoe  will  be  one  marked  in  the  history 
of  this  war. 

Opposite  to  our  "mess"  are  two  officers  engaged  in  a 
game  of  cribbage, — Captain  Lanning  and  Lieutenant 
Bui-d. 

Captain  Warren  L.  Lannin'g,  of  Troy,  New  York, 
is  a  sociable,  obliging  officer,  to  ^whom  we  refer  for 


160  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

decision  of  all  matters  in  dispute  relative  to  the  Mexi- 
can Wa-r, — through  which  he  fought  and  bled  under 
General  Taylor.  He  is  occasionally  troubled  by  the 
"Lucretia  Mott  Club." 

Lieutenant  Charles  H.  Burd,  of  Belfast,  Maine,  was 
wounded  and  taken  prisoner  at  the  battle  of  Manassas. 
He  was  struck  by  a  musket-ball  in  the  upper  portion 
of  the  forehead,  which  entered  the  brain  and,  no  doubt, 
still  remains  there.  Lieutenant  Burd  has  suffered  very 
much  from  his  wound,  and  has  been  afflicted  with 
jaundice  and  other  diseases  since  his  captivity,  but  is 
now  one  of  the  blithest  and  most  buoyant  of  our  com- 
panions, entering  thoroughly  into  the  roughest  and 
wildest  of  prison-sports.  It  is  an  affecting  sight  to  see 
him  moving  around  the  room,  the  gayest  of  the  gay, 
with  a  hole  in  his  head  sufficiently  large  to  admit  the 
little  finger.  He  is  very  popular,  not  only  from  the 
pleasing  exuberance  of  his  spirits,  but  from  the  inde- 
pendence of  his  character  and  his  uncompromising  hos- 
tility to  our  Confederate  jailers.* 

Standing  beside  the  "  cribbage"-party  may  be  seen 
Lieutenant  George  W.  Kenny,  of  Philadelphia,  whose 
youthful  form  and  face  contrast  pleasingly  with  the 
many  rough  and  battle-worn  countenances  around 
him.  Lieutenant  Kenny  is  to  be  admired  for  his  con- 
sistent yet  cheerful  religious  feelings  and  observances, 
and  for  the  high  reputation  he  has  earned  for  courage 
upon  the  battle-field  of  Ball's  Bluff. 

*  When  Lieutenant  Burd  was  released,  an  operation  was  per- 
formed upon  his  head  at  Fortress  Monroe,  and  portions  of  a 
musket-ball  were  extracted  which  had  lain  upon  his  brain  for 
eey en  months. 


PRISON-COMPANIONS.  , 

Moving  restlessly  around  the  room,  tapping  this  one 
and  that  one  on  the  shoulder,  peering  into  a  hand  of 
cards,  dropping  a  sly  remark,  and  here  and  there  seat- 
ing himself,  but  only  for  a  moment,  may  be  seen 
Lieutenant  Charles  A.  Freeman,  of  Hancock  county, 
Virginia,  captured  in  Western  Virginia  by  the  "  Bush- 
whackers." He  is  an  excellent  and  adroit  originator  of 
merriment,  basing  his  fabric  of  drolleries  upon  the 
slightest  thread,  but  always  creating  amusement.  He 
is  much  liked  for  his  fine  social  qualities. 

His  brother  in  misfortune,  Lieutenant  C.  B.  Hall,  of 
Wellsburg,  Virginia, — captured  also  by  the  "  Bush- 
whackers,"— is  at  the  south  end  of  the  room,  the  cen- 
tral figure  in  a  large  group  who  are  intent  upon  the 
laughter-provoking  game  of  "Muggins."  We  hear 
their  loud  roars  of  merriment,  and  see  occasionally, 
through  the  crowd,  faces  marked  by  burnt  cork  in 
every  conceivable  method  of  tattooing, — this  being  the 
punishment  for  the  loss  of  a  game.  Lieutenant  Hall  is 
peculiarly  unfortunate,  and  seldom  escapes  the  penalty 
of  a  blacked  face.  He  is  another  whose  warmth  of 
character  and  quiet  humor  have  assisted  in  making 
the  old  room  convivial  and  habitable. 

Opposite  to  us  stands  the  "  Scotch  mess"- table, 
at  which  are  seated  Lieutenants  John  White  and 
Robert  Campbell,  engaged  in  their  national  games  of 
cards.  They  are  quiet  and  unobtrusive  participants  in 
the  general  sociality  of  the  evening. 

To  the  left  of  "our  mess,"  which  is  situated  in  the 
northwest  corner  of  the  room,  is  the  "mess"  of  the 
15th  Regiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers.  Seated  at  it 
are  Captains  Studley  and  Simonds. 

Captain  John  M.  Studley,  of  Worcester,  Massachu- 


162  PRISON-LIFE   AT   KICHMOND. 

setts,  is  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  intelligent  officers 
of  his  regiment,  and  is  much  liked  by  the  prisoners. 

Captain  Clark  S.  Simonds,  of  Fitchburg,  Massachu- 
setts, is  a  man  of  honest,  brusque  manners,  and  possesses 
many  qualities  that  call  for  esteem  and  admiration.  "9 

Amidst  the  busy  hum  and  general  enjoyment  of  the 
evening,  we  miss  sadly  those  warm  hearts  and  boon- 
companions  from  whom  we  have  parted  during  our 
imprisonment.  Some  of  them  are  "home,"  others  in 
the  far  South;  but  to-night  we  recall  their  companion- 
ship with  us,  and  Fancy  groups  them  in  their  old  re- 
membered places  round  the  room.  Do  we  not  all 
remember  our  chaplain,  the  Rev.  John  W.  Mines,  of 
Bath,  Maine,  whose  genial,  hearty  good  nature  illumined 
our  old  walls,  and  whose  fine  intellect  furnished  us 
with  food  for  religious  'meditation  ?  And  also  Captain 
Thomas  Cox,  Jr.,  of  Ohio, — the  rough,  the  brave,  the 
true  soldier  and  friend  ?  And  do  we  not  blend  the  re- 
membrance of  him  with  Lieutenant  William  Dickinson, 
of  Connecticut,  whose  quiet  suggestive  humor  and 
inexhaustible  stories  so  often  gave  prison-life  a  tint  of 
the  outer  world?  And  Lieutenant  J.  W.  Hart,  of 
Attica,  Indiana,  whose  pungent  anecdotes  were  ever 
sought  for  and  uproariously  appreciated, — "  Hart  on 
Exchange," — -can  we  ever  forget  him,  his  hearty  laugh, 
his  nervous  jocularity,  his  imperturbable  good  nature? 
To  none  are  we  more  indebted  for  our  life  of  merri- 
ment than  to  him ;  and  yet  we  value  him  not  only  for 
his  spirit  of  wit  and  humor,  but  as  a  gentleman  of  fine 
impulses,  generous  and  genuine  in  all  his  walks  of  life. 


HOMEWARD   BOUND.  163 


CHAPTEE  XL 

HOMEWAKD   BOUND. 

ON  the  19th.  of  February,  1861,  we  were  informed 
that  the  Confederate  Secretary  of  "War  had  issued  an 
order  releasing  on  parole  all  the  Federal  prisoners  in 
the  South.  The  information  came  to  us  through  the 
commandant  of  the  prison,  and  we  hailed  it  with  glad 
hearts  filled  with  joyous,  although  subdued,  emotions. 
Could  it  be  possible  that  at  last  the  cherished  hope  of 
many  long,  weary  months  was  to  be  realized? — that 
these  old  walls  would  frown  no  longer  upon  us? — that 
our  far-distant  and  loved  homes  in  the  land  of  our  flag 
would  see  us  once  more?  The  thought  itself  was 
freighted  with  the  reward  for  our  lengthy  imprison- 
ment and  sufferings. 

The  commandant  of  the  post  could  give  us  no  in- 
formation as  to  the  day  of  our  release.  "  It  might  be 
to-morrow,  or  not  until  next  week,"  was  his  reply  to 
the  earnest  questioners.  Yet,  notwithstanding,  many 
industrious  packers  might  be  seen  stowing  away  their 
sparse  wardrobe  into  carpet-bags,  boxes,  and  cotton 
bags  manufactured  for  the  purpose.  Not  a  countenance 
within  the  room  but  what  was  illumined  by  the  glad 
tidings.  It  seemed  as  if  the  heart  came  leaping  to  the 
eye ;  for  glad  voices  and  sparkling  faces  were  heard  and 
seen  where  dull  apathy  and  silent  unconcern  prevailed 
before.  The  19th  of  February  was  spent  in  discussing 

11 


164  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

the  causes  of  the  Confederate  policy  in  paroling  the 
prisoners,  and  its  effects  upon  our  government.  During 
the  day  we  determined  upon  the  nature  of  a  parole 
that  we  were  willing  to  sign,  and  procured  means  to 
caution  our  men  regarding  signing  any  parole  except 
an  honorable  and  the  usual  military  one. 

Two  days  passed  on,  and  the  heart  became  almost 
sick  with  hope  deferred.  At  last,  on  the  morning  of 
the  22d,  we  were  visited  by  the  commandant,  and  in- 
formed that,  if  we  were  ready,  the  flag-of-truce  boat 
would  leave  for  Newport  News  at  six  o'clock  P.M.  Now 
came  the  bona  fide  universal  preparations.  We  were 
to  leave  the  old  warehouse  without  an  inmate,  except 
our  esteemed  companion,  Samuel  A.  Pancoast.  He 
would  be  the  sole  remaining  representative  of  the 
Eichmond  Prison  Association. 

Trunks,  bags,  and  bundles  were  packed  and  stowed 
nicely  in  a  corner  of  the  room  for  transportation,  by 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning.  We  would  not  leave  until 
six  P.M.;  and  how  long  and  dreary  seemed  the  hours  ! 

During  the  day  a  scene  occurred  to  enliven  and  mark 
our  last  day  in  Eichmond  prison.  A  few  days  before, 
the  men  had  received  from  the  United  States  govern- 
ment complete  suits  of  uniform,  and,  in  their  delight 
at  having  new  clothes  and  at  going  home,  they  became 
wildly  generous. 

A  hundred  negroes  had  clustered  around  the  prison 
to  see  "  Massa  Yankee  go  home ;"  and  the  men  com- 
menced throwing  their  old  clothes  to  them,  which 
created  a  furor  of  excitement.  Old,  gray-headed 
darkeys,  young  children,  and  women,  were  running 
frantically  from  one  window  to  another,  to  catch  a 
stray  article  as  it  was  flung  into  the  street,  which  was 


HOMEWARD   BOUND.  165 

very  muddy,  and  often  received  a  half-dozen  scramblers 
sprawling  in  its  mud.  The  negro  crowd  increased,  and 
the  tumult  of  the  scene  extended  to  all  the  prisons, — 
which  caused  the  officer  of  the  day  to  draw  his  sword 
and  rush  into  the  crowd,  laying  about  him  vigorously 
with  the  flat  of  the  blade ;  but  to  no  purpose, — for  the 
poor  negroes  knew  the  value  of  a  woollen  shirt  or  pair 
of  pantaloons,  and  could  not  be  driven  away  until  the 
men  had  exhausted  their  supply  of  old  clothing. 

At  ten  o'clock  A.M.,  the  clerk  of  the  prison  entered 
the  room  with  the  following  written  parole,  which  was 
signed  by  the  officers,  and  subsequently  by  the  men  : — 

"  We,  the  undersigned,  in  the  service  of  the  United  States,  pri- 
soners of  war,  pledge  our  word  of  honor  that  we  will  not,  by  arms, 
information,  or  otherwise,  during  the  existence  of  hostilities  be- 
tween the  United  States  and  the  Confederate  States  of  America,  aid 
or  abet  the  enemies  of  the  said  Confederate  States,  or  any  of  them, 
in  any  form  or  manner,  until  released  or  exchanged. 

"Given  at  Richmond,  this  22d  day  of  February,  1862." 

Six  o'clock  came  at  last,  and  the  order  to  march 
came  with  it.  As  we  passed  out  of  the  warehouse, 
each  one  grasping  Mr.  Pancoast  by  the  hand, — with 
whom  all  had  left  their  surplus  baggage,  beds,  and  tin 
crockery, — we  felt  a  sad  reluctance  to  leave  him,  the 
lonely  occupant  of  the  immense  building  which  had  so 
lately  resounded  with  the  hum  and  tumult  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  prisoners  of  war.  We  charged 
him  to  see  distributed  among  the  destitute  Union 
prisoners  in  Richmond  the  camp-cots  and  other  articles 
left  behind  us. 

But  few  citizens  of  Richmond  had  collected  to  see  the 
last  of  the  "  Yankees,"  and  the  crowd  around  the  doors 
was  composed  mainly  of  negroes  and  children, — forming 


166  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

a  strange  contrast  to  our  triumphal  entrance  into  the 
city. 

We  found  the  privates  drawn  up  in  line  along  the 
pavement,  and,  as  we  marched  past  them,  we  could  see 
a  genuine  pleasure  in  the  faces  of  the  men,  caused  by 
the  release  of  their  officers..  All  were  buoyant  and  ex- 
cited, and  the  march  to  the  boat  was  a  scene  of  mutual 
congratulations  and  gladness  among  men  and  officers. 
A  few  moments  brought  us  to  the  boat,  where  we  were 
densely  packed, — the  privates  on  the  decks,  the  officers 
in  the  cabin.  The  latter  was  very  small,  and  scarcely 
afforded  room  to  stand,  and  none  to  lie  down,  one-half 
of  the  space  being  occupied  by  our  baggage. 

As  we  started  from-,  the  wharf,  three  hearty  cheers, 
as  a  last  farewell  to  our  did  tobacco  warehouse,  were 
given  with  a  lusty  will,  and  we  parted  from  the  Rebel 
city,  hoping  soon  to  re'turn  under  happier  auspices. 

It  was  now  quite  dark,  and  the  rain  commenced  to 
fall,  rendering  the  situation  of  the  privates  on  deck 
uncomfortable  and,  from  their  long  confinement,  dan- 
gerous. The  cabin-berths  soon  became  filled  with  sick 
privates,  and  the  close,  contracted  room  became  more 
disagreeable  than  the  exposed  decks. 

At  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  preparation  was  made 
for  supper,  which  we  eagerly  anticipated,  having  eaten 
nothing  since  twelve  o'clock  M.  When  prepared,  the 
sliding-doors  separating  the  close  cabin  into  two  com- 
partments were  unceremoniously  drawn  together,  and 
our  worthy  jailers,  Captain  Godwin  and  Lieutenant 
Emack,  with  four  or  five  invited  guests,  Confederate 
officers,  quietly  took  their  seats,  without  extending  the 
courtesy  of  an  invitation  to  Colonels  Lee  and  Cogswell, 
or  any  of  us.  Another  illustration  of  the  chivalric  fabric 


HOMEWARD    BOUND.  167 

of  the  Bebellion, — "  the  polished  amenities  of  civilized 
life."  Their  meal  ended,  a  sparse  supply  was  furnished 
us,  which  we  heartily  enjoyed;  for,  as  our  "  Hoosier" 
said,  "  Eat  away,  boys :  every  mouthful  lessens  the 
supply  for  their  army." 

Supper  over,  we  searched  for,  but  found  not,  sleep- 
ing-accommodations. Some  lay  upon  the  floor,  over 
the  baggage,  and  on  the  settees,  whilst  others  played 
whist,  euchre,  &c.  the  entire  night,  unable  to  sleep,  for 
want  of  room, — our  courteous  jailers  in  the  mean  time 
snoring  melodiously  in  their  comfortable  berths ;  and 
so  the  night  passed  away.  As  the  morning  broke,  the 
scene  on  deck  was  a  pitiful  one :  the  men  lay  huddled 
together,  shivering  with  cold,  and  those  on  the  upper 
deck  pelted  and  drenched  with  the  falling  rain;  but 
amidst  it  all  might  be  seen  Bright,  expectant  faces, 
with  cheerful  smile  and  speech.  Poor  fellows !  they 
knew  how  soon  their  sufferings  would  be  ended ;  yet 
impatience  seemed  the  characteristic  of  all. 

The  pilot,  captain,  crew,  and  even  the  engineers  and 
negro  waiters,  were  pestered  constantly  by  the  inquiry, 
"  How  far  is  it  to  Newport  News  ?"  and,  when  an- 
swered, they  seemed  never  satisfied,  except  by  com- 
parison each  with  his  neighbor  of  the  replies  they 
had  received.  Onward  we  sped,  and  at  last  the  black 
hulls  of  the  Jamestown  and  Patrick  Henry,  Confede- 
rate steamers,  appeared  in  sight.  Beyond  them  might 
be  seen  a  small  speck  upon  the  water,  which  eager 
eyes  soon  discovered  to  be  the  Federal  flag-of-truce 
boat.  The  fact  was  announced  on  the  deck  and 
through  the  cabins,  and  we  all  crowded  to  see  onca 
more  the  flag  towards  which  our  hearts  yearned,  and 
around  which  gathers  the  pride  of  every  true  soldier's 


168  PRISON-LIFE  AT  RICHMOND. 

heart.  As  the  breeze  opened  its  cherished  folds,  two 
hundred  and  fifty  voices  shouted  and  roared  with  wild 
enthusiasm ;  cheer  after  cheer  was  given,  and  continued 
until,  from  exhaustion,  the  tumult  of  gladness  became 
silenced. 

The  two  boats  were  tied  together.  The  Confederate 
officer  handed  to  the  Federal  officer  a  list  of  names  of 
those  privates  released ;  and,  as  each  name  was  called, 
the  owner  passed  with  a  skip  and  a  jump  upon  the 
National  steamer,  where  he  soon  appeared  on  the 
upper  deck  with  an  immense  chunk  of  bread  and  ham, 
holding  it  tantalizingly  up  to  his  companions  remain- 
ing on  board  the  Eebel  boat,  ofttimes  with  the  remark, 
"  No  mule-meat  about  this,  boys."  The  privates'  list 
being  concluded,  that  of  the  officers  was  called.  As 
each  name  was  announced,  the  officer  passed  upon  the 
United  States  steamer,  stopping  to  grasp,  cordially,  the 
hands  of  the  Federal  officers. 

At  last  all  were  aboard,  and  we  dashed  down  the 
river.  Newport  News  was  reached.  The  shore  for 
miles  was  lined  with  soldiers,  who  greeted  us  with 
loud  huzzas  and  cheer  upon  cheer.  The  rigging  of 
the  ill-fated  Cumberland  and  Congress  was  filled  with 
their  stalwart  crews,  who  added  lustily  to  the  enthu- 
siastic greeting. 

"We  replied  until  fatigue  and  hoarseness  rendered  us 
incapable  of  further  exertion. 

We  arrived  at  Fortress  Monroe  on  the  23d  of  Febru- 
ary, 1862,  having  been  confined  by  the  Eebels  four 
months. 


THE  RICHMOND  PRISON  ASSOCIATION.1  169 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   RICHMOND   PEISON  ASSOCIATION. 

THE  Richmond  Prison  Association  originated  from 
the  necessity  of  an  organized  institution  through  which 
might  be  perpetuated  the  incidents  of  our  imprison- 
ment, its  sufferings  and  employments;  yet,  owing  to 
the  removal  of  many  of  its  prominent  officers  farther 
South,  to  their  homes,  and,  in  some  sad  instances,  by 
death,  with  the  culpable  negligence  of  others,  the  As- 
sociation is  without  a  written  record. 

A  few  days  subsequent  to  the  arrival  of  the  Federal 
prisoners  of  war  from  Manassas,  the  Association  was 
organized,  with  the  election  of  a  President,  Treasurer, 
Secretary,  and  Sergeant-at-Arms.  As  our  imprison- 
ment lengthened,  new  offices  were  created,  vacancies 
filled,  and  branches  of  the  Association  formed  in  differ- 
ent localities  in  the  South. 

On  the  10th  of  September,  1861,  thirty-one  officers 
were  sent  to  Charleston,  South  Carolina ;  on  the  21st, 
three  were  sent  to  New  Orleans ;  and  on  the  22d  of 
November,  twenty  were  sent  to  Tuscaloosa,  Alabama, — 
all  of  whom  evinced  an  affection  for  their  Alma  Mater 
by  organizing  harmonious  branches  of  the  R.  P.  A. 

The  members  honored  from  time  to  time  by  election 
to  the  different  offices  of  the  Association  are  as  follow, 
viz. : — 


170  PRISON-LIFE   AT   RICHMOND. 

The  Hon.  Alfred  Ely,  M.C.,  from  Rochester,  N.Y.,   President. 
Captain  Thomas  Cox,  Jr.,  of  Cincinnati,  Ohio,          Vice-President. 

"       Ralph  Hunt,  of  Springfield,  Ohio,  " 

Lieutenant  J.  F.  Greene,  of  North  Brookfield,  Mass.,  " 

"          Charles  Walters,  of  Bridgeport,  Conn.,      Treasurer. 
Rev.  George  W.  Dodge,  of  Warren,  R.I.,  Secretary. 

Lieutenant  R.  A.  Goodenough,  of  New  York  City,  " 

Alfred  Taylor,  Esq.,  of  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  " 

Rev.  John  F.  Mines,  of  Bath,  Maine,  Sergt.-at-Arms. 

Lieutenant  William  C.  Harris,  of  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  " 

"          J.  W.  Hart,  of  Attica,  Ind.,  Page. 

Adjutant  Charles  L.  Pierson,  of  Salem,  Mass.,  " 

The  members  of  the  Association  included  all  Federal 
officers  prisoners  of  war,  Union  men,  and,  in  some  few 
instances,  civilians  "  under  suspicion"  of  Union  senti- 
ments, who  have  been  confined  in  the  Federal  officers' 
prison  from  the  commencement  of  hostilities  to  the  ex- 
piration of  our  imprisonment,  February  22,  1862. 

The  following  table  will  show  their  names,  rank,  and 
regiments,  with  remarks  showing  the  date  of  release  or 
removal  from  the  old  Tobacco  Warehouse  in  Kichmond. 


THE   RICHMOND   PRISON   ASSOCIATION. 


171 


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THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SANTA  CRUZ 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  DATE  stamped  below. 


2178 

OCT21  1978 

!W13'80 

JUN241980REC'D 

APR  16 '87      A 


100m-8,'65(F6282s8)2373 


2106  00061    2165 


